


Illusions

by Ambrosya Sylva (Ambrosya)



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Breathplay, Dildos, Double Penetration, Exhibitionism, F/M, Face Slapping, Femsub, Fingerfucking, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Maledom, Masturbation, Mind Games, Multi, Nipple Play, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sado-Masochism, Slash, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M, Whipping, deep-throating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-12
Updated: 2010-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-10 02:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrosya/pseuds/Ambrosya%20Sylva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted as "Faded Dreams" Parts One and Two, this was written to fulfill the following kink-meme prompt:</p><p><i>f!Cousland/Duncan.<br/>In the Fade during the Circle Tower quest, she and Duncan get it on. Because it's a dream, feel free to have it be unrealistic but super kinky.<br/>Bonus points if she realizes it's a dream, goes to rescue Alistair, and discovers he's having the same dream she just had (sex with Duncan :D)</i></p><p>In other words, a severely debauched and raunchy re-imagining of the dreams the aforementioned characters might have experienced in the Fade during the Circle Tower quest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One: Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> I have referred to this piece as my Duncan-related id unleashed, and basically decided to take the prompt as license to ~~try to break the kink-meme~~ work in as many kinks as I possibly could within the parameters on the prompt so that I could quit fantasizing about Duncan and get back to my non-Duncan projects.

It was a dream. Elissa knew it was a dream, and Maker help her, she _didn't care_.

She stared raptly at her father's beloved face as they stood in the main hall of Highever. His face, the room, the tapestries, the great fire, the elven servants all bustling in and out, all of it so very familiar, and all of it mere shadows of a past she knew she could never reclaim.

She could almost believe she was still there.

Almost...if not for the memory of her father lying in a pool of his own blood with half his entrails spilling out as her mother knelt next to him and comforted him in his dying moments. No dream, no matter how real and convincing, could eradicate that memory of her final glance of her parents before she fled.

But if it was a dream, she would enjoy it while it lasted.

"Pup," he father said, smiling at her, "this is a very special guest of mine, Duncan. He's the Commander of the Grey here in Ferelden. Surely Brother Aldous has told you about the Grey Wardens?"

"Of course," she replied, turning to see yet another familiar face, belonging to someone she also knew to be long dead. "The Grey Wardens are a great order of warriors."

"And heroes throughout Ferelden," Bryce Cousland elaborated, "since they defeated the last Blight not so long ago."

"Defeated the Blight?" Elissa's brow furrowed. "But--"

"It was a triumph for all of us," the darkly attractive bearded man said proudly, "bringing down the archdemon and setting the underground lairs ablaze."

"Then what shall the Wardens do?" she asked.

"The Grey Wardens shall be keepers of history," Duncan answered. "We shall tell tales and sing songs of a more tumultuous time, that others may rejoice in knowing that that time is past."

"I see," she murmured, not all that interested in his answer. Anything to keep this illusion alive just a while longer...

"Pup," her father interjected, smiling widely. "Duncan has come here with the express purpose to recruiting you into the Grey Wardens. I've given my consent, and your mother is thrilled at the idea. It will be a great honor for the Couslands, and since you've never really been all that interested in marrying or running the teyrnir, it seems an appropriate solution. Perhaps you'll find your destiny among the Grey Wardens instead."

"I would be honored," she said formally.

"Then it's settled!" her father declared. "I will make one request, however. Your mother and I are leaving momentarily for Denerim, and with Fergus visiting Oriana's kin in Antiva, you will be in charge of Highever. When I return, you may leave with Duncan to join the Grey Wardens. Until then, please show Duncan every courtesy and see to his comfort. You may begin by escorting him to the guest suites and making sure he has everything he needs after his long journey."

"As you wish, Father," she acceded, turning to face the illusion of Duncan. "If you'll follow me, ser?"

"It would be my pleasure, Lady Cousland," the vision smiled at her with more warmth than the real Duncan would ever have allowed himself, and Elissa turned and led him from the great hall.

 

*****

 

"May I compliment you on your beauty, Lady Cousland?" the illusion of Duncan offered once they were alone, following her rather more closely than seemed strictly necessary through the passages of Highever Castle, bumping into her backside at every pause. Smiling to herself, Elissa decided to allow it and wondered just how far she might take this.

She lowered her lashes and flirted with him. "Aren't such compliments 'inappropriate?'" she needled, remembering Duncan's rejection of her offer the night she met him. "What, with you being my commander in the very near future, and a guest in my father's castle."

"I can't imagine why they would be," the dream-Duncan--no, Elissa decided, she would think of him merely as "Duncan" until morning came and woke her in her lonely tent--replied. "Having given their permission for me to recruit you, your parents have essentially ceded all guardianship over you. You are now your own woman, and may receive any attentions you desire."

"And what of the Grey Wardens? Where do they stand on matters of...propriety?"

He caught her elbow and turned her to face him. "Fraternization is by no means disallowed within the Grey Wardens," he replied, pressing close to her until her back was against the stone wall. "We've little else to do with our time, now that our battles have passed. Frankly, many of us have grown quite bored and have acquired...rather decadent appetites. We fought hard for our victory and if the rewards we allow ourselves seem indulgent, they are at least well-earned. And here in Ferelden, I am the arbiter of propriety for the Wardens under my command, and I have a...liberal view of such matters."

That was all wrong, she thought, knowing Duncan would never say such a thing, and yet...this was everything she had ever desired that day so long ago in Highever.

The pressure of him against her--Maker, he even _smelled_ like Duncan!--brought back to her all the warmth and hunger she'd felt that day she first beheld Duncan. She'd wanted him then. She'd wanted to be overcome by the raw power and discipline he exuded, wanted to surrender to his will and his command. She'd been so frustrated by his polite and proper refusal that she'd sought that milquetoast Dairren to come to her bed to ease the ache she'd been left with. And now, in this dream, he was hers for the taking, and the fact that he had her pinned against the wall in plain view of anyone who should walk by had heat rushing across her skin and tension pulsing in the pit of her belly. Already she could feel moisture seeping between her thighs.

Peering up at him from beneath her lashes, she murmured, "I am supposed to see to your _every_ comfort. Besides, with you being my new commander, I must obey, mustn't I?"

"I would have it no other way," he growled into her ear. He caught her earlobe between her teeth and pulled on it with his teeth, hard enough to be uncomfortable. His hand pulled at her skirt and jerked her smallclothes aside, wedging her thighs apart, caressing her with no care for gentleness. He handled her more roughly than anyone she'd ever known, but what he was doing was incredible. The coarse friction of his fingers on the hard knot of pleasure made her hips buck, and when he thrust three fingers into her sex with no warning and ground his thumb against her nub, she cried out in mingled discomfort and pleasure, seizing around him and shuddering in a brutal and unexpected paroxysm that flashed through her as swiftly and sharply as a whipcrack.

As she caught her breath and stared at him in wild-eyed wonder, he withdrew his hand with a satisfied smirk. He brought his wet fingers to her face and slid them along her lips, pressing until she opened for him, and pushed them into her mouth. "Suck them," he demanded, his other hand fondling her breast.

Obediently, she sucked, licking the slippery fluids from his fingers. At that moment, she heard the jingling of armor and her eyes darted to the left as Ser Gilmore came around the corner. He stopped and gawked at them and Elissa quickly tried to pull her head away, but Duncan grabbed her hair and would not allow it.

"My lady!" Ser Gilmore's voice cracked, rushing forward, his hand going to the hilt of the sword on his back. "Ser! I demand you unhand her immediately!"

"You may leave us, ser knight," Duncan said amiably, apparently unconcerned with Ser Gilmore's threat. "Lady Cousland is perfectly safe in my company, and is here by her own wishes. Her father requested she see to my every comfort, isn't that right, my lady?"

Elissa felt the hot blood of humiliation stain her cheeks. The embarrassment did nothing to alleviate her arousal, however--it still throbbed between her legs, stronger than ever as she watched a rapid succession of emotions cross Ser Gilmore's face, from indignation to revulsion to arousal.

"Perhaps your loyal knight would like to watch?" Duncan mused, finally withdrawing his fingers from her mouth. "It hadn't been my intention to take you here in the passageway, but I'm willing to consider it. Or maybe I should take you to the barracks and let the whole company of guards watch? It's not like they won't get the whole story when your knight here begins to gossip, is it? Perhaps I might even let them each have their turn."

Simultaneous spasms of lust and fear quaked through her, and she was shockingly intrigued by the idea, but she shook her head. It took her a long moment to remind herself that this was just a dream. "No, please," she answered, her voice shaking. It never occurred to her to refuse Duncan's assumption that the choice was his to make. She struggled to project an air of dignity. "It's all right, Ser Gilmore, you may go. I'll simply...finish escorting the Commander of the Grey here to his guest chamber. If you'll follow me, Commander."

She walked away as sedately as she could manage, ignoring the cramping surge of desire that threatened to buckle her knees as Duncan pulled her back against his chest and gave her breast one last rude squeeze right in front of Ser Gilmore's stunned gaze, then prodded her forward. They rounded a corner and left Ser Gilmore's sight.

Duncan's hand on her arm stopped her once more. "Stand perfectly still," he commanded, and she shivered with foreboding as he drew a dagger from a sheath at his waist. "Answer me honestly. You were aroused when I suggested letting the guards see me take you, weren't you?"

Testing him, she shook her head in denial. "No. Of course not," she answered.

"You're lying," he declared, and her heart hammered as he raised the dagger and pressed it against her breast. "For that, you will be punished."

A swift flick of the dagger was answered with a small clatter as one of the buttons down the front of her gown was cut away and dropped to the stone at her feet. The rest followed in rapid succession, until her gown was parted to the waist. He pulled her breastband away from her skin and ran the razor-sharp edge of the dagger down the fabric between her breasts. It parted with a whisper, and her breasts sprang free.

"You will walk through the rest of the castle as you are," he said calmly. "Now, I will give you another chance to answer honestly. Were you aroused by my suggestion that I allow the guards to have you?"

"No!" she protested, her face crimson even as she felt another surge of arousal. Roughly, he spun her around and slammed her against the wall. The stone was cold and rough against her exposed breasts. She felt him pull at her skirt again, then heard the snarl of ripping fabric as he dragged his dagger through the back of her skirt from her hips to the hem. Cold air wafted against her thighs and backside. She heard the dagger slide into its sheath and then felt his hands brusquely jerking her smallclothes down her hips and thighs. She stepped out of them at his command, then he turned her around to face him.

He raised her smallclothes to his face and inhaled deeply, giving her an arch look. "Another lie," he noted casually. "You will walk beside me, so that neither your breasts nor your lovely backside are hidden from the view of passers-by. If you make even the smallest attempt to hide or cover yourself, I will shove you to your knees and fuck you in front of the next person we encounter, be it a servant, a guard, or your father himself. Am I perfectly clear?"

"Yes," she whispered, feeling the sting of humiliated tears burn her eyes. It was only made worse by the knowledge that this was what she desired, and even as she quailed, desire throbbed with agonizing intensity in her belly. From the moment she'd seen Duncan, she'd wanted him, known that he was a man who would possess her completely. But until this moment, she hadn't understood how desperately she'd needed this...this utter and abject debasement at his hands, how she craved it like her next breath.

"I wouldn't worry," Duncan said casually, his tone almost chatty as she walked beside him, painfully aware of her exposed state. She lifted her chin and tried to pretend nothing was amiss as a servant approached and then froze, staring. At her lack of acknowledgment, the elf quickly recovered herself and scurried away. "Your father is by now already on his way to Denerim with your mother, and no one is going to question the acting teyrna and the Commander of the Grey. Soon, we'll be departing for the Warden compound in Denerim and you'll never see these guardsmen or servants again, except on rare visits. So...if it arouses you to think of letting them fuck you while I, and all the others watch, well, that can be arranged.

"But know this," he grabbed her by her hair and pulled her to a halt, jerking her head back until it rested against his shoulder. His hand slid down her back to her exposed backside. His finger dipped low, to the impossibly wet folds between her legs, then retreated, stroking softly along the cleft between her buttocks, spreading the fluids he had gathered there. "_I_ will decide, not you, when you are taken, and where, and by whom or by how many." As though to punctuate his statement, his damp finger pressed slowly but deeply into her anus. Elissa's drew a harsh breath and shuddered with the intoxicating combination of fear and humiliation and arousal. Even as her mind shied in horror from the images he was creating, her body ached for him to do to her everything he'd described and more.

He withdrew his finger, gave her a sharp slap on the rump, and instructed her to continue on her way. Before they reached his chamber, they encountered two more servants and another guard. Elissa dismissed each of them with a regal nod, then sagged with relief as she stepped into Duncan's chamber and he closed the door behind them.

"Disrobe," he instructed with a nonchalant wave in her direction, turning from her to lay aside his blades and unbuckle his armor. Shivering, she stripped off the ruined remnants of her gown, then stood alone, naked, in the center of the room. "Summon a servant and have a bath prepared," he said, beginning to remove his clothing.

Closing her eyes, she pulled a cord near the bed. In the hallway, a bell rang and within moments, a servant knocked softly at the door. "Enter," Duncan commanded, and Elissa turned to face the stunned chambermaid who opened the door.

"The Commander of the Grey desires a bath," she said, struggling to keep her voice calm, as though it were every day she stood nude in the chamber of a guest. "Please bring hot water and towels."

"Do not bother knocking when you return," Duncan added as the servant bowed and made to withdraw from the chamber. "Simply go about your work and try your best not to disturb your lady at her business."

When the door closed again, Elissa watched him warily. Now as nude as she, his body rippling with hard, corded muscle that looked as unyielding as the hands she'd already felt upon her, he withdrew the multiple leather belts from the scabbards and sheaths that had hung from his waist and shoulders and laid them in rows on the bed, then moved about the room, gathering also the ties from the window curtains and bed draperies and laying them beside the belts.

"Come here," he commanded at last, and she stepped hesitantly toward him, her pulse pounding in her ears and between her thighs. She dreaded what he had planned next, even as she yearned for it. She thought for a moment of ending this, of trying to force herself to awaken, but she couldn't do it. If she woke now, she may never again have this chance to explore all that she'd craved from Duncan in those few short weeks before his death.

She stood before him and he stared at her a long moment, thoughtfully. "I've reconsidered," he said at last. "I thought I might bind you to the bed right away and let your servants see you spread out awaiting my pleasure, but I've thought better of the notion."

Quick as a serpent striking, he reached out and grabbed her by her hair once more and forced her to her knees. Taking a belt, looped it about her neck and buckled it loosely there, the tail forming a short leash which he then wound about his hand, drawing her inexorably closer until his erection was pressed against her face, the bristly hair of his groin chafing her skin. With his free hand he pushed his erection out of the way and lifted the sac beneath it.

"Lick it," he growled, giving the leash a jerk. Intoxicated by the musky scent that surrounded her, she opened her mouth, eager to taste him. She caressed his balls with her tongue, licked away the saliva that collected on the soft, wrinkled skin. She opened her mouth wide and drew one soft orb into her mouth gently. Then the chamber door swung open as the chambermaid obeyed Duncan's command not to knock and shuffled in with a yoke over her shoulders bearing buckets of hot water.

Elissa stiffened and tried to pull away, but Duncan pulled the leash tighter. "Continue," he said calmly, then to the chambermaid: "Go about your business."

Her face crimson, Elissa offered a few half-hearted stroked of her tongue, cringing and unable to dismiss the stream of maids bearing buckets passing into and out of the room. Duncan pulled away with a severe frown.

"Now you've gone and disrupted my comfort," he chided. "What? Are you concerned with what your servants might think? Afraid they might not respect your authority? In _this_ chamber, and in _my_ presence, my lady, you have no authority. My orders are to be obeyed eagerly and immediately, and your only concern is pleasing me. The sooner you get comfortable with that, the easier this will be for you. To that end..."

Duncan let the belt unwind from his hand until he held only the end, and Elissa swayed on her knees at the sudden and unexpected loss of restriction. Turning around before her, he stood with his backside before her face. He reached back and spread his tightly muscled buttocks slightly, opening the crevice between until the puckered opening was revealed. "Lick it," he commanded sternly. "Ignore the servants. If you falter even once, you will not enjoy the consequences."

At his tug on the leash, dragging her closer, twin tears escaped her eyes. She opened her mouth to obey, then froze and bowed her head, "I _can't_!" she whispered.

"You will," he said coldly, pulling on the leash again. "The longer you delay, the worse your punishment will be."

Tears trailing down her cheeks unchecked, and feeling the covert stares of every servant that entered to empty more buckets of water into the bathing pool, she leaned forward and stroked her tongue along the cleft between his buttocks. Salt and sweat and musk filled her senses, not unpleasant except for the mortification she felt. He pressed his backside closer to her and issued another calm, implacable command. Obeying, she began to swirl her tongue around his anus, licking firmly. Duncan grunted in pleasure, making small movements with his hips. Elissa began to find a method and rhythm that he drew pleased responses from him, alternating sweeping strokes with firm jabs of her tongue directly on his opening. Without even thinking about it, she lifted her hand and began to fondle his balls where they brushed her chin. Ever so often the sounds of a servant arriving with more buckets would cause her to tense up and lose her rhythm, but Duncan would jerk roughly on the leash and she would find it again, until bath was filled with steaming water. The parade of servants ended and the chamber door shut behind the final one.

"Get up," Duncan commanded, pulling away and turning to face her. His shaft was rigid and quivering against his belly, long and thick and beautiful, but he seemed almost unaffected by her reluctant ministrations. "Kneel on the bed."

Elissa rose, stumbling as her knees protested the prolonged exposure to the hard stone floor. The bed felt heavenly in comparison as she knelt, and kneeling before her, Duncan took her breasts in his hands. "I warned you," he said softly, "what would happen if you faltered. Not only did you falter, you attempted to disobey me."

With sudden brutality, his fingertips closed on her nipple like a vise, pinching hard. Elissa cried out, squirming, trying to pull away from that merciless clamp. It seemed forever until he released her, but scarcely had she caught her breath than he did the same thing to the opposite nipple. Another release, another pause, and then he pinched the first nipple again, only now she was so oversensitive that the pain was infinitely worse. She wailed, writhing frantically, beating at him with her hands and trying to push him away. She nearly succeeded in gaining her freedom, but he grabbed the makeshift collar near her neck and jerked it hard, pulling her off-balance. She tumbled to the bed and he was immediately upon her, crushing her into the feather mattress. Screaming, she clawed at him, only to be stunned by a sharp slap to her face. His iron-hard hand drew back and slapped her again, then he came down on her with all his weight, trapping her limbs beneath him.

Subdued, she stared at him in shock as once again he caught her nipple between his fingertips and pinched brutally. She screamed until she was hoarse, struggled until her muscles quivered with fatigue, not because she had any true hope of winning her freedom, but because she couldn't _not_ struggle. Still, he was unrelenting. Her nipples throbbed and ached when he finally released them and eased his weight off her body.

He thrust his hand roughly between her thighs and withdrew it, glistening with copious fluids which he licked from his fingers with relish. "It seems," he remarked, his tone amused, "that I was mistaken. You did enjoy your punishment after all."

Elissa choked on a sob, turning her eyes away from his smug expression. Even now, still feeling the remnants of agony pulsing in her nipples, she wanted him, wanted _more_. He dipped his head and licked her throbbing nipple and she cried out in pleasure, exquisitely sensitive to even the slightest pressure of his tongue.

"I suppose this means I will have to devise another punishment," he said with cheerful menace. Abruptly he hauled her up. "Roll over, onto your knees," he commanded. "Hold on to the bedpost."

No sooner had she obeyed, then his hand came down hard on her buttock with a shockingly loud _CRACK_ that echoed off the stone walls of the chamber. Elissa yelped, more surprised than hurt, and felt an answering throb between her legs. She squirmed, rubbing her thighs together to attempt to generate some friction to soothe that frustrated pulsing. Another slap to the opposite side brought another surge of restless desire. And another. And another, as her skin began to grow warm, burning where the blows had landed.

"Do you think I'm trying to pleasure you?" Duncan taunted, bringing his hand down in another punishing blow, and again, too quickly for her to recover. The pleasure she'd felt with those first few strikes was gone now, and the blows simply _hurt_. Elissa cried out sharply with each one, louder each time, and the pain built and built. Every inch of her skin between her thighs and her waist felt like it was on fire, and still the blows rained down upon her. Her cries turned to wails which then evolved into screams. She wriggled and tried to crawl away, but his hand on the belt looped around her neck held her in place. Again! And again! And again! And--

\--suddenly his fingers thrust into her, hard and fast. She was tense and tight, having braced herself against the blows, and only the moisture weeping from between her folds eased their passage. Roughly he pumped them in and out, and she moaned loudly, wriggling now for an entirely different purpose, arching her back in an effort to open herself for him, praying to the Maker, to Andraste, to the Creators of the Dalish and the mage-lords of Tevinter for him to just _take_ her and bring her that final little bit to completion.

Shamelessly, she begged him for release in the most vulgar language she knew, filthy, vile supplications spilling from her lips without self-consciousness. She buried her face in the pillow bit it, tearing at it with her clawed hands. She let it muffle one hoarse cry after another. Close, she was so very close!

Then suddenly his fingers were gone, and she wailed in frustration. She felt him moving behind her, and, she hoped--thank the Maker--readying himself to fuck her. She babbled words of gratitude and promises of unquestioning and devoted service. She pressed her chest down into the bed, arching her back, lifting her ass like a cat in heat...

A soft whistle, then, and she felt solid fire blaze a sizzling line across her backside as a belt struck her reddened and welted skin. Elissa shrieked, reared up, brought her hands behind her to cover her exposed buttocks, but Duncan grabbed her by the back of the neck and shoved her face back down into the pillows. "If you try to shield yourself or get away again," he grated, "I will summon Ser Gilmore in here and make him whip you."

He held her there a long moment, unable to breathe with her face buried in the pillows. She began to struggle and fight for air until he relented, easing the pressure on her neck enough to allow her to catch her breath before he shoved her back into the pillows again. When he released her once more, she drew ragged, gasping breaths. He drew away, and the belt whistled through the air once more. Another stripe of what felt like molten steel crossed her flesh.

Elissa screamed, but remembering Duncan's warning did nothing to attempt to pull away or protect herself. The seering line of agony on her skin, however, was quickly forgotten as she found her face thrust once more into the bedding, her air cut off until she struggled and fought to breathe.

"I like seeing you writhe like that," Duncan said, his voice a low growl against her ear as she gasped for air. Giving proof to his words, he ground his pelvis against her abraded backside, his erection rubbing the welts he had left behind. The tip of his cock left a cold line of wetness across her inflamed skin. He pressed her into the pillow again, until her lungs felt ready to burst with the need for air, and when he released her, he the belt sang and slashed across the back of her thighs. Once! Twice! Three times! Over and over, while she screamed and cried and fought with herself in an effort to not attempt to escape. Just when she was about to lose the struggle, her breath was cut off again, her face driven into the pillow that was now damp with her tears, until sparkles began to flare within her eyes. She hovered on the verge on unconsciousness when his hand came down without the belt. Once. Only once. Not across her backside, but between her thighs, his cupped hand dealing a hard, sharp slap to her sex.

The world exploded in flashing light and roaring noise as she came at the very instant that oblivion almost overtook her. The pressure was gone from the back of her neck, and she could breathe. She heard shrill, feral shrieks and knew them for her own, felt her throat burning from the misuse of her vocal cords. Her hands clawed at anything she could reach and she heard the shredding sound of her fingernails scraping the linen of the sheets and pillowcases. Spasm after spasm crashed over her, each in its own way as brutal as the strokes of the belt had been and when it was over, she lay on her belly on the bed, shuddering as minor ripples passed though her, her chest heaving and hitching as her lungs heaved drew deep, heaving breaths.

Gentle now, his hands stroked her, passing over her stinging welts with feather-light touches, massaging the muscles of her back and shoulders where no tension lingered. Everything within her felt as though it had melted into liquid. When his hand caressed the side of her face, she mewled and rubbed her face against it like a cat, craving his gentleness. His fingers brushed over her mouth and she kissed them fervently, knowing he possessed her utterly.

His fingers gently pressed at her chin, urging her up, and he bent low to kiss her, licking sweat and tears she didn't know she had shed from her lips. Helplessly she gave herself to the kiss, welcoming his tongue into her mouth. After a long moment, he drew away and shifted so that he sat beside her head. The same heavy scent of musky she had relished earlier wafted toward her, and she raised her eyes to see his long, turgid erection thrusting boldly up against his belly before her face.

Though exhausted, she placed eager, willing kisses along his hip and thigh and groin. She raised herself on her hands and knees and crawled sideways as he parted his legs to allow her to settled herself between them.

Elissa trailed kisses up the length of his erection, stroking lightly, licking the head where a bead of fluid had gathered. Her lips parted and she let the tip of his cock slip inside, running her tongue around the ridge. She teased the slit at the tip with her tongue, and then drew him into her mouth, deeply, her head bobbing up and down as she sucked.

Pulling back, she trailed licks and kisses down his length, her saliva wetting him. She licked and sucked for a moment at his sac much as she'd done earlier, only this time willingly, joyfully. Then she took him into her mouth once more, as far as she could manage without gagging. Up and down she moved, pulling on his cock with long slow sucks, withdrawing periodically to suck lightly on the head before sliding downward for another slow draw.

Remembering a trick she'd overheard in her youth from gossiping young noblewomen at one of the Queen's salons in Denerim, she relaxed herself with a slow, deliberate breath. She clenched her left hand into a fist, then pressed her thumb into her palm and squeezed tightly. Then, she plunged her mouth downward, taking the full length of his erection into her mouth.

Onward she pressed, past the point where she might normally have gagged, but there was no convulsion, only a very slight popping feeling as the head of his cock passed from the cavern of her mouth into her tight, quivering throat.

Unable to breathe, she worked the muscles of her jaw as much as she could, creating more tension for him. Duncan groaned, his hips lifting, thrusting restlessly upward. His hand caressed her face, then gripped her hair and held her until she ran out of air and pulled away. She licked him slowly as she drew several deep breaths, forcing her muscles to relax and release the tension that had crept into her body. Duncan was surprisingly patient as she gathered herself, allowing her the freedom to pleasure him according to her own wishes, and she felt a surge of power, knowing that at this moment she possessed him as completely as he'd possessed her earlier. Smiling, she once again squeezed her left thumb and took him deep into her throat, all the way to the base where the crisp hair of his groin brushed her lips.

Duncan groaned again, louder and more urgently. This time when she pulled away, he refused to release her entirely, but buried his hands in her hair and pushed her back down after she'd caught only the slightest of breaths. Technique and finesse were abandoned, and she sucked on him, hard, resisting only when he hit the back of her mouth and caused her to gag. He bucked his hips, driving into her mouth. With a grunting roar, he came. A hot rush of thick, salty fluid washed over her tongue and into her throat. Elissa drank it down, savored it, bestowed light kisses to his softening length as she released him.

_Now I should wake and end this_, Elissa thought reluctantly, unwilling to stir. Before she could compel her body to meet her will, however, Duncan's hand seized her hair cruelly and dragged her up from where she lay with her face pillowed on his thigh.

"I'm not finished with you," he announced, all trace of tenderness gone from his expression and voice. He jerked her into a kiss, as brutal now as he'd been gentle before. His tongue plundered her mouth, his lips grinding hard against hers. Elissa felt excitement surge to life throughout her body, felt that emptiness at her core aching to be filled, and she thrilled to feel his cock twitch and stir against her--not hard, not yet, but slowly rousing back to life.

He released her as abruptly as he had seized her, thrusting her away so that she tumbled and sprawled back upon the bed. With impersonal hands he released the belt from around her throat and tossed it aside. Arrogantly, he rose and walked away from her, stepping into the deep, stone bath and sinking into the water. Elissa knelt on the bed and warily stared at him, trying to gauge his next move. Casually, he gestured her closer with a wave of his hand. "Come here," he commanded, gesturing to the opposite end of the long bathing pool. "Bathe."

Rising, she crossed the room and stepped into the bath. She let the water swallow her, gasping sharply as it stung the welts across her backside, but when the stinging faded, it felt divine. As Duncan leisurely sponged the sweat from his body, she cupped water in her hands and lifted them to her shoulder, letting the water sluice down her back and chest. For several moments, they bathed in silence, as the warm water and slippery soap soothed her aches.

She paused when she felt his keen gaze upon her. The familiar low hum of arousal began in the pit of her belly, like the discordant tuning of an orchestra prior to a symphony.

"Sit up on the edge," he instructed, sliding down and reclining until the water was up to his shoulders and his head rested on the wall of the stone bathing pool. Obediently, she complied. The stone ledge was uncomfortable against her abraded rear, and she perched gingerly, awaiting his pleasure. "Oh no, make yourself comfortable," he said, seeing how carefully she sat, barely applying any pressure. "You're going to be there for some time as you provide the entertainment for my bath. Spread your legs, now."

Cautiously, Elissa opened her thighs, keenly aware of the fact that in their present positions, his was eye-level with her sex. Nothing was hidden from his view, and it made her feel self-conscious.

Duncan sat up and dealt a stinging slap to the inside of her thigh with a wet hand. "Spread them!" he snapped. "All the way!"

She felt a small spasm as the muscles of her sex clenched and released in response, not just to the slap but to his sharp tone of command. Her body reacted even as her will balked. Unable to bear the thought of another whipping--or whatever torment he might devise as a consequence for disobedience this time--she reluctantly spread her thighs far apart, shivering as the cool air and rising steam wafted across her exposed folds in turns.

"Good," Duncan said approvingly, his voice warm. He settled back into the water, casually folding his arms behind his head. "Now pleasure yourself."

After all that had gone before, Elissa wasn't sure that would be possible, but her sex gave a willing pulse and Duncan chuckled. He'd seen the twitch. Unable to refrain from blushing, she dipped her hand to her sex and catching some of the moisture seeping from between her folds, began to draw circles around her sensitive nub with her fingertips.

Her hips immediately bucked in reaction and she had to open her thighs again as they threatened to slam shut. After the rough treatment it had already received, the hard knot of nerves was almost painfully tender and even the slightest touch felt like _too much._ She had to caress gently if she hoped to find any pleasure at all.

Duncan watched her intently, his eyes never wandering from the motion of her fingers and the fully-exposed display of her sex. Elissa closed her eyes, unable to bear him looking at her so frankly, seeing parts of herself that not even she had ever seen so completely.

"Spread yourself open," he murmured, and she winced in embarrassment, hesitating only a second before she obeyed. With her fingers, she parted her folds and held them open for his gaze as the fingers of her other hand continued to circle the center of her pleasure. As she did so, he began to talk, wielding words like caresses.

"There is no part of you that I will not possess," he said, his voice a low, confident, seductive rumble. "Until I say otherwise, I command every instant of pleasure you receive, every moment of pain. Every orifice of your body belongs to me to use as I desire. There is no pain so intense you will not bear it on my command, so debasement so humiliating you will not suffer it at my pleasure. _You are mine._"

"Oh, Maker!" she gasped, rubbing harder, faster, feeling pleasure begin to build at his words. She heard the slight splashing of water as he moved, and she opened her eyes to find his face directly before her, and a single pointed finger slid firmly and suddenly into her core and crooked. "Oh! No!" her voice was strangled as she bucked and thrashed, trying to pull away, the sensation _too much_ to be borne, and everything within her resisted.

"'No?'" Duncan asked, his tone mockingly bemused as he withdrew his finger and she nearly collapsed with relief from the intensity. He held his glistening finger before her face, waved it beneath her nose to allow her to smell it. "_This_ doesn't tell me 'no.' Not that I recall allowing 'no' to be an option."

Rising, he stepped from the bathing pool and retrieved his dagger from where he'd left it with the rest of his weapons when he'd undressed. He drew it half from its sheath, and felt a surge of terror, unable to remind herself that this was merely a dream. Tauntingly, he slowly slid the dagger suggestively back into the sheath and carried it with him back into the tub.

"It occurs to me that in all this time, you still haven't been fucked," he remarked. "Perhaps it's time we remedy that. Sit. Now." That final command was spat so crisp and sharply it might have been a physical blow, for all that it was barely louder than a conversational murmur. Trembling with fear, Elissa sank back down upon the stone ledge. Duncan knelt before her and rested the dagger beside her and roughly shoved her knees apart, spreading her legs achingly wide. Without preamble, he moved between her open thighs and rammed into her in a single thrust.

Elissa gave a shrill, warbling cry, throwing her head back, her face contorting as pain and pleasure combined. She was tight and unprepared, and he was thick and slightly curved. His girth stretched her flesh as the immense pressure of being filled by him brought her close to the edge of ecstasy again. Giving her no time to adjust, he set a fast, merciless pace, slamming into her without regard for her struggles as she adapted to the invasion.

Gradually she stretched to accommodate his girth more comfortably. He wrapped his arms around her hips, pulling her forward to meet his pounding hips. Each rough thrust was accompanied by a sharp cry wrenched from her hoarse throat, but it was good, so very good to have him so hard and thick and full inside her, filling her completely. She placed her hands on the stone ledge on either side of her and arched her back, lifting her hips of the surface to allow greater freedom of movement as she met his ramming thrusts eagerly, her internal muscles grasping at him as wave upon wave of pleasure built within her, until she teetered on the precipice of completion.

Suddenly, he pushed her away and withdrew, his shaft twitching as he fought back his own climax. She cried out, bereft, and groped for him, seeking to draw him back. "Not. Yet," he ground out, grabbing her hair and dragging her forward for a deep kiss, his tongue thrusting roughly into her mouth. She gave herself over to the kiss, welcoming the invasion of his tongue with the same eagerness she'd received his cock inside her, yearning toward him, wanting more. She felt him moving, and then something cold and metallic was pressing bluntly against the entrance of her sex.

Fear froze her, congealing within her breast and spreading outward in icy waves. Everything in her body tensed as he firmly pressed the wide, rounded knob of the pommel of his dagger into her. It ached as it stretched her even wider than his erection had, and then the pommel was inside her and her flesh closed around the narrower shaft of the grip. Still he pressed on, deeper and deeper until the wide guard rested cold against her folds. Elissa sat there, quivering with fear, as he slowly drew the sheath off the blade.

"I'd advise you not to close your legs," he said softly, calmly, moving off to the side and away from the dagger blade is it jutted out from her body, the hilt buried within her. He pressed carefully on the guard, holding the hilt of the dagger within her when the pulsing of her muscles attempted to expel it. "Now pleasure yourself," he demanded in a murmur, "and do watch out for your fingers."

Her hand shook as she slid her fingers cautiously down her belly to her mound and the bundle of nerves pulsing softly there. The bitter, metallic taste of fear was in her mouth and her heart raced and hammered against her ribs. When she touched that spot, it was so intensely sensitive that her entire body convulsed. She caught herself not an instant too soon as her legs attempted to clamp closed in an involuntary, instinctive effort to protect her from an excess of stimulation. She felt, rather than heard, Duncan's chuckle. Holding the guard of the dagger carefully he began to pull, slowly drawing the hilt almost completely out of her, before pressing it it back in with slow, implacable care. She shuddered again in aroused revulsion as she realized the metal of the guard was now warm from her heat.

Duncan leaned forward and pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses against her neck, which was now damp with the sweat of fear. He licked a line down to the junction where her neck met her shoulder, kissing, sucking...

...and then his teeth clamped down, hard. Elissa screamed in startled pain, resisting the urge to struggle as her limbs attempted to move, to fight him off. The sudden increase in tension pushed the hilt of the dagger halfway out, and ruthlessly Duncan shoved it back in against her resisting muscles. It seemed an eternity before he finally let go with his teeth, and Elissa lifted a hand to feel a deep, stinging ring of teethmarks on the tendon between her neck and shoulder. There was no blood, astonishingly, but the imprint throbbed.

"Pleasure yourself," he repeated insistently, giving the hilt of the dagger a quick, careful pump. Whimpering with the remnants of pain, Elissa once again traced a soft circle around her throbbing nub with her fingertips. She held her legs rigid against the impulse to move, her feet braced against the bottom of the stone bathing pool. Insanely, even through her fear and discomfort, she could feel pleasure at the touch of her fingers, softly responding to her slow rubbing.

Duncan kissed a slow, licking, soothing path down the slope of her shoulder and Elissa began to increase the tempo of her fingers, still rubbing carefully, but more firmly, more swiftly. Pleasure began to coil and tighten within her, and even the terror and the hilt of the dagger filling her so solidly felt good. Faster it wound in her belly, tighter, her hips shifting in tiny, involuntary movements as her body sought release. Almost there, almost to the edge, and then...

...Duncan bit her again, hard, on the point of her shoulder where the firm muscles of her arm began. His teeth sank ruthlessly into her skin, unresponsive to her scream of pain and fear as once again she came close to injuring herself on the protruding blade of the dagger as her body spasmed with the uncontrollable urge to fight him off. Red flares of light sparkled through her clenched eyelids as she gritted her teeth and moaned, her body taut. By the time he released her, tears had started in her eyes and were glistening on her cheeks.

"Continue," he whispered, his beard brushing her ear. With slow, even movements he drew the hilt of the dagger out and pushed it back in, and again, fucking her gently with it. Weeping softly, helplessly, she once again stroked herself, praying now to find the pinnacle of pleasure quickly so that this trial might be over. Duncan rose and moved to the other side of her. No sooner had she begun to respond to the ministrations of her own fingers, then his teeth sank savagely into her other shoulder and another round imprint burned in her skin when he released her.

"Again!" he said sharply, hefting her breast in the palm of his hand and licking the nipple. Desperately she rubbed the center of her pleasure, tears streaking down her ravaged face, frantically seeking her release amidst the shuddering spasms of fear that rippled through her gut at the thought of his teeth so near her tender nipple. He licked the upper slope of her breast, tracing the blue veins on her pale flesh with his tongue, sucked on the soft flesh. Fear and pleasure combined to tighten her body in waxing and waning surges of pleasure, drawing her ever nearer the brink.

When his teeth closed on her chest just above the soft white skin of her breast, she shattered, convulsing, screaming with her head thrown back and the nails of her free hand gouging the side of her own thigh. The keen blade of the dagger danced and bounced as her muscles seized around the hilt in waves. On it went, and on; so long as he bit down into her breast, the waves kept crashing over her until all she could do was buck and hold her legs apart.

Finally he stopped biting, and Elissa looked down to see the bright crimson--though miraculously bloodless--crescents of his teeth imprinted above the slope of her breast. She felt him gently draw the hilt of the dagger out of her, and another spasm of helpless pleasure shuddered through her as the wide pommel pressed firmly against that maddeningly swollen and intense sponge of flesh behind her pubic bone on its way out.

Setting the dagger aside, Duncan drew her into his arms, holding her, kissing her brow. Overcome by the extremes and intensity she had endured, Elissa began to sob, clinging to him, wrapping herself around him.

"You are marvelous," he murmured, massaging her body soothingly, "So fearless and fierce! Everything trial you withstand makes me admire you more, makes me desire you more. Your passion and grace are a wonder to me, and if I desire to possess you body and soul, that is why."

He sank with her into the cooling water of the bath and held her until her sobs had subsided and she began to compose herself again. Then he left her there in the pool as he got out and began to dry himself. He tossed the unsheathed dagger carelessly onto the bed and then coaxed her from the tub. Weariness had started to set in, and she felt boneless and replete. He dried her skin softly, careful of the the places where she was tender. Elissa allowed him to pamper her, trusting as a child in her lassitude. He guided her to the bed and sat her upon its edge, then knelt behind her and pulled her wrists behind her back, wrapping them in one of the cords he'd scavenged from the bed hangings.

Weakly, she struggled, unable to summon much energy to resist. "Please," she murmured, "I think I would rather rest now."

"We will rest soon," he assured her, his hand coming around from behind to stroke her neck and throat, making her tilt her head to the side in sensual delight, "But not until _I_ decide it's time to rest. And I have not finished yet." Kneeling behind her, he pressed firmly against her back and she felt the prodding insistence of his warm erection. He ground against her and though weary, desire sparked dimly within her again. She tried to stroke him with her bound hands but the angle was wrong. She couldn't reach him and growled in frustration.

"It thrills me to see you so eager to please," he chuckled in her ear, nibbling her lobe as his arms came around her and his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples. Remembering, she glanced down and saw the imprints of his teeth were filling in, but had begun to discolor in a distinctive dual crescent of blackish bruise. For some reason, the sight, knowing he had left a brand on her flesh that would linger, pleased her.

He kissed her jaw, the side of her face, and she turned her head, seeking his mouth, opening to his tongue. The hands on her breasts became rougher, more insistent, kneading and squeezing her flesh. Then he locked his arms around her and hauled her body onto the bed. Unable to catch herself with her arms bound behind her, she toppled over to her side when he released her, and Duncan slapped her backside once, sharply. "Get up onto your knees," he ordered.

It was a struggle, encumbered as she was. She had to roll over onto her stomach and press her face into the bedding, lifting her hips and drawing her knees up under her. She panted slightly once she had achieved the task. Unable to brace herself with her hands, she had no choice but to lie with her head turned to the side against the bed, the dagger not far from her face, her shoulders down and her back arched so that her backside and sex were prominently exposed. When she attempted to straighten up, Duncan pushed her back down, pressing between her shoulder blades.

"You will only rise if I tell you to rise," he commanded. His fingers slid easily into her; somewhere in her exertions, moisture had begun to collect on her folds again. Slowly, leisurely, he pumped his fingers in and out, twisting them to stimulate likely spots and stretch her. Then he withdrew his hand. A second of prodding and his erection pushed into her with exquisite slowness, inch by inch, letting her feel every bit of his flesh as it parted her.

Elissa sighed softly. After all that had gone before, it wasn't nearly intense enough to bring her to fulfillment again, but it felt good. It was pleasant to be filled by that thick, hard, pulsing length. More than her own climax, she wanted to feel him come inside her, feel him lose himself within her. Complacently, she moaned softly, enjoying his easy thrusts. She closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of the dagger on the bed, and let herself be rocked by the rhythm he set.

Her eyes flew open again with shock as, without warning, he pressed a slick, wet finger into her rear entrance, pushing slowly but insistently until his finger was buried in the tight opening. Duncan grunted with pleasure as tension made all her muscles tighten around him. He picked up his face, fucking her harder and faster, driving her into the bed. His finger in her anus twisted and turned and rubbed, relaxing the muscle.

Suddenly alert, Elissa quivered as a tiny spasm of pleasure rippled through her. It felt so very much better than she would have expected. Arousal caused her internal muscles to flutter where they engulfed Duncan and he paused with a quiet groan. He withdrew from her body, both the finger in her backside and his erection from deep within her. With a sudden plunge of his fingers into her sex, he collected more of the fluids that had begun to drench her the moment he'd worked his finger into her rear. Then the finger was back, slicker this time, sliding easily into to ring of muscle and spreading her moisture. He withdrew, then pressed two fingers in, firmly, taking no heed when she lifted her head and protested the unaccustomed and alarmingly intense sensation of being opened this way. The pressure was too much, so strange and yet so good. Still, she sensed the potential for pain here and feared what would come next.

"This is how I intend to finish," he said thickly, something rough and menacing in his tone. "Every night from now on, the last thing you feel before you go to sleep will be my seed seeping out of you, here," he worked his fingers in and out faster for emphasis. "That's how you'll always remember that there is no part of you that doesn't belong to me. No matter what I do to you, no matter how you suffer or what pleasure I give you, no matter who I allow to have you, this will always belong to me."

A spasm of fear tore through her, drawing all her muscles taut with tension, and into that tension, Duncan once again thrust his cock, roughly, pumping in and out of her sex with rapid strokes. Then he quickly withdrew and she felt his slick erection push against that tight rear opening, slowly but unrelentingly.

"Oh, Maker! Please!" she gasped in alarm, a sharp burn starting where he insistently pressed in to her. She tried to rear up, but he pushed her down again.

"If you struggle, it will hurt," Duncan said, unaffected by her fear. "If you relax, I promise you will enjoy it. Either way, this is how I intend to take you. The choice is yours."

He eased off for a moment, and Elissa breathed a sigh of relief. Already the moisture he'd spread over her was drying and becoming tacky, and he rose, leaving her there. Presently he returned, and his fingers once again pushed between her buttocks, this time slick with some other substance. He pressed them into her again, deeply, sliding and probing. She tried to relax into that utterly foreign feeling of having something within her there. He paused and she felt him stroking himself behind her, heard the slick sounds of his hand pulling on his own wet flesh, and then his erection was prodding at her once more, insistent and unrelenting. Drawing a deep, nervous, shuddering breath, Elissa tried to relax as he'd instructed while he pushed gradually into her.

For a swift moment it burned unbearably, and it was all she could do not to fight it, whimpering softly into the bedding, but then he was within her and--dear Maker!--the sense of pressure and fullness was incredible. He allowed her a moment to adjust, and then he began to move.

Slowly at first, oh! so slowly, he rocked, before drawing back with exquisite care before thrusting forward again. The sensation of being filled was frighteningly intense, and Elissa felt the chill of fluids sliding down her thighs from her dripping sex. Gradually, he increased his pace, drawing from her a series of low, guttural, wailing cries as she surrendered to the intensity of being stretched and filled this way. Of all that had passed between him since meeting in the Great Hall, this, _this_ was the moment she felt most fully in his power, submitting totally to his will. He owned her completely, and she yielded to him with abandon.

With a snarl, Duncan gave over his reserve and unleashed to ferocity he'd been holding in check. His hips drove into her backside with bruising force, awakening the ache of the welts he'd left there with the belt, as his hands gripped her waist and jerked her back against him. Again, and again! He released her waist with one hand and tangled his fingers in her hair, wrenched her head back and forced her spine into an even sharper arch.

"Come for me," he demanded, his voice low and ragged, his words filthy and arousing. "Come with my cock in your ass."

"I can't!" she sobbed, agonizingly aroused and yet unable to find that peak despite the brutal, unyielding pressure and pleasure as he rammed his length deep within her, over and over.

With a feral growl he gave her hair a punishing jerk and his other hand came around her hip. His fingertips ground mercilessly against her swollen, tender knot of pleasure.

"Come for me now!" he commanded, with one last rough stroke of his fingers, and Elissa shrieked, shuddering and clenching around him. Still he pounded into her her, hammering against her backside with his pelvis, again, and again, and finally with a sudden, barking shout he rammed home once more and she felt him swell and pulsate within her, over and over. He slumped over her, drawing a yelp of protest as he pressed her into the mattress and her arms were trapped behind her painfully pressed between their bodies.

Duncan withdrew, his softening length sliding easily out of her, wet with his own seed. He untied her hands, and she stretched, her shoulders aching. She felt exhausted, and desperate with the need for rest, but even as she lay down and began to close her eyes, she felt Duncan rise from the bed with seemingly renewed energy.

_How can he not be tired by now?_ she wondered, and a bolt of fear shot through her as he looked in her direction and his deep brown eyes were strangely blank.

**Wouldn't you like to just lay down and...forget about all this? Leave it all behind? **

The words, remembered distant and indistinctly, brought her upright on the bed. Duncan didn't notice, he was busy rifling through his gear in search of something, clearly preparing for another bout with her.

Suddenly she remembered the Circle Tower, and then...

**You deserve a rest. The world will go on without you.**

Abomination.

_How long have I been here? Where are Alistair and the others? What has been happening when I've been delayed here?_

The demon masquerading as Duncan straightened, approaching her with a small smile and something resembling a manacle. The sight awoke a pang of arousal within her and suddenly she understood that this would go on and on without cease, if she allowed it. She needed to get out of here.

As the demon drew close, Elissa grabbed the dagger from the bed and shoved it through its throat, just below the beard that had intrigued her so. She shuddered in revulsion as the thing gurgled blood and collapsed beside the bed. Breathing heavily, she rose from the bed and found herself suddenly clad in the armor she'd been wearing in the Circle Tower, her weapons at her back. A glow caught her eye and she looked toward the corner of the chamber to see a small pedestal that hadn't been there before.

Collecting her scattered senses, she strode forth and touched it.


	2. Part Two: Chimea

Elissa gave an irritated snarl as Wynne faded away, disappearing from sight, and let loose a long, loud stream of invective that would have made Zevran blush. She stomped back to the Fade pedestal by which she had arrived into Wynne's dream.

_Everyone is accounted for except Alistair_, she thought, straightening her shoulders and drawing a deep breath against the vertigo which inevitably accompanied transport using the pedestal. _He has to be next._

She touched the pedestal. Wynne's nightmare disappeared.

She emerged in garden near a cascading fountain. Walkways paved with stones spread like veins through thick groves of trees and bushes and divided small patches of lush green lawn. Marble pots overflowed with a profusion of flowers.

In the distance, she could see Alistair sitting on one of the marble benches that lined the paths, his head bowed and his shoulders slumped in what looked like a decidedly dejected pose. Quickly, Elissa began to make her way along the path leading to him, when suddenly a figure emerged from a stone archway and began approaching him from the opposite direction.

Elissa froze, knowing that form all too well. The dark complexion, the long queue bound by a leather thong at the back of his head, the thick, dark beard hiding the most incredibly skilled mouth she'd ever felt...

Of course! She closed her eyes against a sudden surge of longing. Alistair _would_ be dreaming of him, the man he'd cared about so deeply and missed so desperately. She'd half-expected to find him dreaming of the sister he'd told her about, but this actually made more sense. Goldanna was just an abstract concept of "family." Duncan was the reality Alistair had known. For Alistair, Duncan was "home" as much as Highever had been to Elissa.

That thought led to another, more powerful memory, of what had passed in her own dream. Even knowing it had been a demon who had done all those incredibly debauched things to her, she wanted it all again, _craved_ it desperately. Until the day she died, she would yearn for just one more hour under those masterful hands, for the taste of his seed on her lips, the fullness of him within her. Deep inside, even knowing what she must do, she wanted it all back, ached for it, resented the call of duty that forced her to abandon it.

Regretfully, she touched the upper swell of her breast where it was exposed by her leather armor and realized the ring of bruises that had been there when he'd bit her in her own dream was gone, as was the ache of welts from the whipping he'd given her. No tenderness remained in her sex or in the opening to her rear to remind her of his merciless possession of her.

She wanted to weep.

Not wanting the demon to see her just yet, until she had composed herself and formulated a plan of attack for extracting Alistair from this vision, she hid. She needed to get closer, observe just what sort of dream Alistair was having before she could decide the best way to end the illusion for him. She thought briefly about using the ability to become a mouse she'd learned early on during this time in the Fade, but abandoned the idea. If it came to combat, changing out of the form of a mouse into something more defensible would waste precious seconds.

Instead, she ducked behind a large tree and exercised the skills she'd been trained to since adolescence, the knowledge she'd learned of how to move without being detected. Carefully, she wound her way between the columns and potted plants to get closer to where Duncan had just sat on the bench beside Alistair.

"You've been in Weisshaupt Fortress for some time," she heard Duncan's voice say kindly as she approached stealthily. "I just wanted to make sure you're happy here."

"Of course I'm happy!" Alistair exclaimed. "Being here with you, with the other Grey Wardens, it's...I'm finally home."

"And yet I find you out here in the gardens moping," Duncan observed. "What's wrong, Alistair?"

"It's...there's this girl. Lady. Woman. Elissa, from Highever, remember?"

"Yes," there was a note of amusement in Duncan's voice. "I remember."

Now close enough to charge out and rescue Alistair and end this charade, instead Elissa paused. Fascinated in spite of herself, she crouched down lower behind a topiary and eavesdropped.

"I'm crazy about her!" Alistair declared. "She's all I can think of. And I _think_ she likes me. She seems to enjoy my company, at least. And I want to court her, but I...don't know how."

"I see," Duncan murmured thoughtfully. "You've never courted a woman before?"

"At the monastery?" Alistair's tone was incredulous. "Come on, Duncan."

"And you've never made love to anyone."

"Oh, please!" Alistair blushed, but held his ground. "_Mon-a-stery_, remember?"

"I thought perhaps some of the other Wardens may have taken you out for an evening of...revelry during our time in Denerim," Duncan explained.

"They tried," Alistair mumbled. "Even paid for a...lady...at some tavern for me. But I couldn't. That's just...not for me."

"And why not?" Duncan asked. "Some young men finds it gives them a bit of confidence to get a little experience."

Alistair looked away. "I--I want it to be with someone I care for. I know that sounds stupid, but its just not something I can take lightly."

Duncan hummed thoughtfully. "I see," he said again, pondering. Then he moved closer to Alistair, and Elissa knew that posture, that intense regard. Even though it was not fixed on her, she felt her body respond.

"You care about me, don't you, Alistair?" Duncan asked softly, lifting his hand to lightly touch Alistair's face and turn his head.

"Of course! But...wha--?" Alistair spluttered, unable to complete his question, as Duncan leaned forward and paused, his bearded face only a breath away from Alistair's.

"Let _me_ teach you," he said, his voice barely a whisper on the soft breeze. "Alistair..." he breathed.

Then Duncan's mouth closed gently over the Alistair's.

Elissa was grateful for Alistair's gasp, for it masked her own. Alistair's entire body went rigid. His hands rose halfway to Duncan and then froze in mid-air, as though Alistair himself couldn't decide whether to push Duncan away or embrace him. A moment passed as he sat there, neither resisting nor responding, and then his hands closed on Duncan's shoulders, drawing the the older man (_Demon!_ Elissa reminded herself firmly, but this visceral reaction she felt to seeing the two embrace didn't seem to care) closer. Alistair's mouth opened, his head tilted, and he _melted_ into Duncan.

A long, tender moment passed wherein Alistair began to piece together the mechanics of kissing. When to open his mouth or close it, capturing Duncan's lip between his; when to thrust or stroke with his tongue, when to nibble and when to suck. She felt the kiss as though she were the one receiving it, found herself yearning to be a part of it, felt her heart race vicariously with that indescribable surge of excitement that only came when sharing a kiss with someone for the first time.

When Alistair drew away with a shuddering exhalation, she, too, sighed.

"Duncan," Alistair stammered in amazement. "I don't--I didn't--I never..." he ducked his head, but he didn't move away from Duncan's caressing hands as they stroked his hair and neck and shoulders. "I never imagined...Well, I mean, I _did_ imagine...did I _ever_ imagine!...but I never thought that you really would..."

"Want you?" Duncan's husky chuckle tightened everything within Elissa from the navel down, and an answering shiver rippled through Alistair. "Alistair, you have to know how special you are to me. You're not merely just another Warden under my command."

For a moment, Elissa felt outrage well within her at a demon speaking such sweetly manipulative words. She half-rose, ready to end the charade. And then she realized, those words came from Alistair. The demon only gave voice to the desires nurtured in Alistair's most secret heart. This was his dream, his utopia, as much as seeing her father alive and experiencing abject surrender at Duncan's hands had been hers.

She'd always imagined Alistair looked upon Duncan as a father, but now she understood what he felt for Duncan was more than that. Duncan had been Alistair's savior. What he'd felt for the man had transcended defined roles such as father, or mentor, or commander. The adoration he felt for Duncan was too big to be contained within such strictures. No expression of love lay outside the boundaries of his feelings.

"I would never hurt you, Alistair," Duncan was saying tenderly, sliding his hands up under Alistair's tunic, softly stroking the his back.

"I know," Alistair whispered, leaned into Duncan back in for another kiss.

The second kiss was no less moving than the first had been. Duncan abandoned some of his restraint and introduced a heavier note of passion and urgency, guiding Alistair to release his caution. They strained at each other, hands caressing and pulling. Duncan's hair came loose from the thong restraining it as Alistair thrust his fingers into it, drawing Duncan closer. When Duncan's lips left Alistair's to press kisses down the stubbled column of his neck, Alistair's head fell back and Elissa caught her first glimpse of his face since she'd begun observing him, his eyes rapturously closed, his mouth gasping and open, a blush of passion staining his cheeks.

_He was beautiful._

Duncan's lips reached the edge of the fabric where Alistair's tunic began. He ducked away from Alistair's needy hands as they reached for him and rose from the bench. He took Alistair's hand in his and pulled him to standing, drawing him in for another deep kiss. While their mouths wrestled and writhed and strained together, Duncan's fingers began to work the laces at the neck of Alistair's tunic, sliding them open. Alistair was panting when they parted again, but Duncan merely took his hand, leading him off the pathway through the garden to a small patch of lush lawn alarmingly close to where Elissa hid. She ducked and froze, certain she'd be discovered, but neither of them seemed particularly observant at that moment, and she used every bit of her ability to move in stealth to creep over and peer out from the other side of the topiary.

Maker's breath, they were practically near enough to touch!

They stood facing each other, in profile to her. At this distance she could see the continuous trembling in Alistair's limbs, the rapid, nervous hitching of his breath. Duncan kissed him again, hard and deep, and Alistair gave voice to a desperate moan, clutching at Duncan. Duncan's hands worked under the hem of Alistair's tunic, lifted it, slowly revealed his pale skin and the firm ridges and ripples of quivering muscles beneath. Duncan broke the kiss and, with a deep breath, Alistair raised his arms and allowed Duncan to pull the tunic up over his head. It fell to the ground and Duncan slid his hands down Alistair's back and kneaded the muscles there.

Duncan's bowed his head and pressed kisses over Alistair's neck and shoulders, and then down. Alistair groaned when Duncan's mouth covered his nipple. His arms came up to wrap tightly around Duncan, holding him to his chest while Duncan licked and sucked at his nipples, each in turn. Alistair's breathing was harsh by the time Duncan raised his wet, glistening mouth.

There was nothing of caution or reserve in the way Alistair's mouth swooped in to slant across Duncan's. The kiss was unrestrained and demanding, his tongue eager and thrusting. This time it was Duncan who groaned and shuddered, his fingers gripping the flesh of Alistair's back before sliding down to push inside the waist of his breeches, stroking just above the curve of Alistair's buttocks.

The tension that tightened Alistair's body then was clearly visible in every taut muscle. "Relax, Alistair," Duncan coaxed. "Let me love you."

Those were words Alistair was powerless to refuse. With a long, nervous breath, he nodded. He kicked off his boots and, unwinding his arms from around Duncan's shoulders, began pulling on the laces of his own breeches. When they were loose, Duncan slowly pushed them down, inch by inch. The firm, rounded globes of his backside were revealed, then the long, corded muscles of his thighs. Alistair stepped out of the breeches and let Duncan consign them to the pile with his shirt and boots.

Duncan stepped back and gave Alistair a long, sizzling perusal, a small smile on his normally grave face. Alistair's hands twitched as he struggled with the impulse to cover himself. As though he understood, Duncan nodded and began to slowly strip off his own armor and clothing.

Alistair stood there, riveted, his posture indecisive. After a long moment, he drew another deep breath and stepped forward to help Duncan with the buckles of his armor.

As he assisted, Alistair grew bolder, beginning to touch and kiss and explore. Rapture transformed Duncan's stern face when Alistair pressed heated kisses down his neck and along his collarbone. Elissa was mesmerized by it. This Duncan was a man she'd never known, neither while he had lived nor in her dream. This Duncan, who was so tender and loving and willing to let himself be passive while Alistair acquainted himself with his body. When Alistair bent to take Duncan's nipple between his lips, Duncan's mouth fell open with a low moan. His eyes closed, and his hands stroked Alistair's wide, muscled shoulders, caressing and kneading.

Mindful of his armor, Duncan set it aside with more deliberation than Alistair had exercised discarding his own clothes. He untied the leather pouch he customarily wore at his belt and set it on the ground apart from the rest of their clothing. Soon Duncan was undressed to his smallclothes, and Alistair hesitated as he reached toward them and then pulled back, uncertain. Duncan nodded in understanding and, grabbing Alistair's shoulders, jerked him abruptly in for a kiss. Here, there was no reluctance or uncertainty. They groped and seized one another, their mouths open and clashing, straining to pull each other closer, to get a better hold, to find a more pleasurable place to caress.

The sight of their bodies embracing was the most beautiful thing Elissa had ever beheld. Alistair was paler, his skin smoother and less scarred, his muscles round and bulging. Duncan was darker, leaner and harder. His years of fighting had covered his skin with more scars, and his muscles were more corded and knotted.

They were each glorious in their own right.

Alistair's buttocks flexed, instinctively pushing his pelvis forward to grind against Duncan's. They groaned into each other's mouth in unison, a low sound that rumbled through Elissa's nerves and vibrated at that pulsing place from which heat was snaking outward in warm, coiling tendrils through her body.

"Duncan--?" Alistair gasped as Duncan drew away, but he didn't seem inclined to complete the thought. Duncan's hand slipped between their bodies and wrapped around Alistair's erection, stroking lightly. Alistair shuddered as Duncan kissed his jaw, his ear, down the curve of his throat to suck at the taut tendon that joined his neck to his shoulder.

Lower Duncan's mouth traveled, exploring Alistair's shoulders, the planes of his chest, the cascading ripples of his abdomen. Alistair's hands clutched at Duncan's shoulders, the back of his head, as Duncan licked a wet line down the trail of hair descending from Alistair's navel to his groin. Grasping Alistair's erection, Duncan took it into his mouth.

"Oh, Maker!" Alistair's grunting exclamation startled the birds from their perches. Duncan's hands settled on Alistair's hips, his fingers kneading Alistair's backside as he drew Alistair closer, leaned into him, taking him deeper. Alistair swayed, chanting incoherent invocations to Andraste and the Maker, and Duncan drew back with a long, slow suck.

When Duncan's mouth slid back down Alistair's length, taking him all the way in, his hand came up to cup Alistair's sac, working it gently with his fingers.

Alistair's body went rigid and began to quiver. "Holy Andraste!" he moaned, and his hips bucked helplessly as a desperate groan gurgled up from his throat. He pushed into Duncan's mouth. Once, twice, then he froze, with a grunt and a body-wracking shudder. Duncan drew back with a sigh, licking his lips, and began to rise.

"Duncan, I--" Alistair seemed at a loss, embarrassed by his precipitous reaction, but Duncan merely pressed his fingers to Alistair's lips.

"We're only just beginning," he assured Alistair. Alistair parted his lips, letting Duncan's fingers into his mouth, sucking on them, stroking them with his tongue.

Duncan leaned into Alistair, replacing his fingertips with his mouth. Alistair made a low, needy sound and clung to him, as if he would wrap himself around Duncan. Emboldened, Alistair's hands slid into the back of Duncan's smallclothes and pressed on his backside, pulling him in closer, tighter. He writhed against that solid bulge beneath the thin fabric, seeking to offer Duncan the same pleasure he'd received, but Duncan took a step back, shaking his head. "Not yet," he said huskily. "Lay down, Alistair."

Alistair sank down and stretched out upon the ground, lifting his arms to reach for Duncan. Staring down at Alistair with a hungry look, Duncan pushed his smallclothes off his hips. Alistair drew in a sharp, startled breath as Duncan let them slide down his legs to the ground. Duncan knelt, leaned over, covered Alistair's body with his own as their arms wound around one another and Alistair raised his head, seeking Duncan's mouth for a frantic, greedy kiss. His legs parted and without thought or hesitation he hooked his feet around the back of Duncan's calves, thrusting up with his pelvis to grind slowly against against Duncan's erection.

With a grunt, Duncan answered the thrust, pressing his hips into Alistair's. Elissa stared, breathless, entranced, her heart hammering with arousal and longing as they rocked against each other.

Duncan's fingers threaded through Alistair's hair in an unspeakably tender and intimate gesture, grasping Alistair's head to guide him this way or that as Duncan devoured his mouth. Alistair's fingers dug into Duncan's shoulders, slipping on his skin as it grew moist and shone with perspiration, then his hands traveled down Duncan's back and without self-consciousness or reservation, cupped his nude backside and squeezed hard.

Duncan chuckled, thrusting hard against Alistair as he pushed himself up with his arms and bent his head low to nip and suck at Alistair's neck and shoulders. Alistair sighed, shivering with pleasure as Duncan once again worked his way down Alistair's body. Alistair was already half-erect again, but Duncan bypassed his length as it twitched and surged to life and with a long swipe of his tongue, licked Alistair's sac. Duncan's hands slid behind Alistair's knees and began to push them up toward his chest, spreading his thighs further apart and forcing his pelvis to tilt.

"Maker, Duncan..." Alistair groaned as Duncan drew his balls into his mouth, sucking lightly on them. Duncan's face was buried in Alistair's groin, but his dark eyes were intent upon Alistair's reaction. He shifted slightly lower and Alistair thrashed, his fingers digging into the soft sod beneath him as Duncan's tongue darted out to stroke across his opening. Alistair's body went rigid. He calledout Duncan's name, lost between passion and shock, and Duncan's hands soothed him. Duncan turned his head and pressed kisses to the inside of Alistair's thigh.

"Relax," Duncan breathed. "You're safe with me. Open for me, Alistair. Hold your legs back, here..." he pushed Alistair's knees to his chest and Alistair grabbed them, his feet in the air as he spread himself open for Duncan.

"Oh, good," Duncan sighed, kissing Alistair's erection, his balls, his thighs, the curve at the base of his buttocks. Alistair quivered, his head thrown back, but he made no sound of protest. "You're so beautiful, Alistair. So perfect. I love the feel of you, the smell of you, the taste of you..."

Alistair gave a soft whimper and a tear rolled from the corner of his eye into his hair. His face relaxed and he licked his dry lips, the tension leaving his body except for what was required to keep his legs drawn up so far. Elissa's heart ached to realize no one had ever spoken words of love or tenderness to Alistair before. She wanted to kiss that tear away and hold him as Duncan pleasured him, feeling him quiver, watching every beautiful reaction, but she was frozen in place, unable to announce herself without shattering the moment.

In truth, she wasn't even sure Alistair would welcome her now. How could his infatuation with her possibly stand against the power of his love for Duncan?

_I shouldn't be watching this,_ she thought suddenly, ashamed of herself. It hadn't bothered her to spy before, but now she understood the intimacy of what she was witnessing, She was intruding on a powerful act of love.

She remembered the templar in the Circle Tower held under the sway of the demon she had killed and unexpectedly, she regretted the act. She'd been filled with righteous indignation at what she had perceived as a perversion. She hadn't understood then, just what she was interrupting and disdaining. She'd killed not only the demon that had enthralled him, but the templar himself, in the name of "freeing" him. It had never occurred to her that for the first time in his life, while under the demon's power, he had been free already.

She had been wrong.

Had she been just as wrong to kill the demon in her own dream?

Alistair gave a strangled cry as Duncan jabbed his tongue into his tight entrance. Duncan's head moved rapidly, rhythmically. He made wet, sloppy sounds that were anything but revolting as he sucked and licked vigorously at Alistair's anus. Alistair undulated, his face contorted, his mouth open in a rictus of pleasure. Sweat rolled from his forehead and chest and made his grip on the backs of his knees slippery. He hooked his arms behind his knees and clasped his hands in an effort to present his backside more fully to Duncan's mouth, giving himself over to passion and sensation with an abandon Elissa had never suspected him to be capable of.

At length, Duncan rose. He wiped the back of his hand across his face and beard, which were wet with sweat and saliva, and as he did so, his hand shook. Alistair lay spread before him, panting raggedly, and with a smile, Duncan reached for the belt pouch he'd laid aside earlier.

He retrieved from it a familiar vial. Elissa owned an identical vial, as did anyone who fought with bladed weapons. It was oil for cleaning steel blades and preventing rust. Alistair's eyes opened and watched Duncan with unquestioning acceptance as Duncan poured oil into his palm and drizzled it down Alistair's cleft. He spread the oil in his palm over the fingers of his opposite hand and Alistair threw his head back as Duncan carefully slid a slick finger into him.

Her body tight and quivering with longing, she watched as Duncan prepared Alistair. His hand pumped, as he worked in and out. Alistair tensed when Duncan slid another finger inside him, his jaw clenching for a moment before going slack on a breathless gasp. He panted and shifted, relaxing into the intrusion, as Duncan's fingers spread him, sliding back and forth. Then Duncan twisted his hand and--

"Ah! Dun--Duncan!" Alistair groaned, nearly coming off the ground. "Oh, please! Oh, Maker, yes!"

Remembering those fingers inside her own body as a prelude to more, Elissa shivered, recalling the stretching, the fullness. But Alistair's reaction was...more, as though he were feeling things she hadn't. His chest heaved and his voice rose and fell in a nearly nonstop litany of pleading and exhortations for more. Still, Duncan would not be rushed. He took his time, sliding his fingers deeply in and out, twisting back and forth, again and again, as Alistair's erection quivered and twitched and wept droplets of clear fluid, looking impossibly engorged, as though he hovered near the brink of fulfillment.

Finally Duncan pulled his hand back. His poured more oil from the vial into his hand and grasped his own shft, stroking up and down as he spread the oil over himself. Alistair lifted his head to watch, licking his lips hungrily. Here, too, Duncan drew out his preparations. He made a show of it, let Alistair see what he was doing, see him pleasuring himself, teasing himself with soft, light strokes until Alistair was making quiet, urgent sounds as though it were his own length those hands were caressing.

Duncan closed his eyes and hummed softly, enjoying his own ministrations, until Alistair sighed, "Duncan, please--"

Duncan's hand stilled, and his eyes were unfathomably dark as they opened to meet Alistair's. "Do you want me?" he asked, his voice mild but his gaze intent.

"Yes! Sweet Andraste, yes!"

"Do you want me inside you, Alistair?"

"_Maker's blood_, yes! Please! Now, Duncan! Please, I want you...please..."

Duncan smiled, and he soothed his oil-slick hands up the backs of Alistair's thighs, caressing softly. "Relax," he murmured, moving up over Alistair's body. He took a moment to lean in for a tender kiss, and then his hand disappeared between their bodies. Alistair gave the smallest whimper followed by a long, soft moan as Duncan pushed slowly forward. It seemed an eternity before the bones of his hips pressed fully against Alistair's backside and then he sat perfectly still and waited, drawing deep, slow breaths. Alistair trembled violently, beads of sweat covering his skin. He panted heavily and when Duncan moved slightly, his breath left him in a soft grunt.

Alistair moaned again as Duncan bent over to kiss him, then his hands released his thighs. He gripped Duncan's torso with his knees, his heels riding on the swell of Duncan's backside. Alistair's arms snapped around Duncan and pulled him in closer, greedily devoured his mouth, his hands scrabbling for purchase on Duncan's sweat-slicked back. Their tongues dueled, thrusting and parrying, their mouths wet and open.

Rearing back, Duncan withdrew and slid back into Alistair, less cautiously this time, drawing an enraptured cry from Alistair as he moved. Grabbing Alistair's leg, he brought it up over his shoulder, and then the other, pausing to give a low growl of approval as the angle and tension within Alistair changed. He pulled back and surged forward again and they both groaned together.

"Duncan..." Alistair murmured, reaching for him. Duncan caught Alistair's hands in his and interlaced their fingers in a gesture that was somehow more erotic and intimate than the coupling of their bodies. Then Duncan began to move in earnest.

"Oh, Maker, Duncan...I had no _idea_..." Alistair babbled, his head thrown back, the corded tendons on the sides of his neck standing out. Duncan thrust forward forcefully, his hips slapping against Alistair's backside and Alistair grunted at the impact, his voice growing louder, more ragged, more desperate. Duncan withdrew his hands from Alistair's and grabbed his hips instead, pulling him into the thrusts until each one was accompanied by a solid thud and both men shuddered at the force.

Duncan's gaze became unfocused, and his head fell back as he gave himself over to the rhythm he had set, slamming into Alistair's eager, receptive body over and over. Alistair's moans were a long, continuous chorus of pleas and supplications and a surprisingly rich repertoire of invective. Duncan was mostly silent save for the deep grunts that punctuated the surges of his hips, until something changed.

His pace increased, took on a punishing force that Alistair welcomed loudly, begging for more. He looked down at Alistair, his dark eyes intent, and murmured lovingly, "Alistair..." as he took Alistair's straining erection into his hand. He began to stroke as the volume of Alistair's cries began to echo off the stone walls surrounding the garden. Duncan was wracked by a sudden shudder, his face turning dark, mottled color. He lost his rhythm as he gave voice to a low, strangled moan. Two more firm pumps of his hand and Alistair followed him over that precipice, with a sound that was half-groan, half-bellow. His head rolled to the side, his eyes wide open in wonder...

...and his gaze locked on Elissa as she crouched mere feet from his head. No amount of skill at stealth could possibly shield her from such a direct stare. "Elissa!" he choked as seed splashed across his hard belly in spurts.

 

*****

 

She cursed herself. Not necessarily for the mortification she felt at being discovered spying upon them--that was well-earned--but for having spoiled such a beautiful moment for Alistair. Even if it was only a dream, he deserved better than to have the wonder of his first time making love with someone he adored brought to a crashing halt by an intruder.

More importantly, however, if he was angry or resentful, she was going to have a difficult time convincing him to abandon the illusion and leave with her. If the demon possessed Duncan's fighting skill as well as his appearance, she didn't want to take it on without an ally or the element of surprise at her side. And when they were out of the Fade again, she wanted Alistair to be able to look her in the eye.

Alistair had covered his eyes with his hands, still panting from his release, his embarrassment so profound he could do nothing more than lie there and suffer under it. Duncan took more positive action. He gently disengaged from Alistair's body and sat beside him, stroking his shoulder as he looked at Elissa sternly.

"How long have you been there?" Duncan asked.

"Since the beginning," she murmured. "Alistair, I'm _sorry_. I didn't mean to..."

"What does it matter?" Alistair said bitterly, uncovering his eyes to turn a resentful glare at her. "Now you've seen everything, _heard_ everything. You know what I--" He mouth twisted as though he tasted something foul. He sat up and started to rise, but Duncan restrained him with a hand on his arm.

"Wait, Alistair," he said calmly. "For the sake of all of us co-existing here in peace, we ought to resolve this now. It may be that Elissa didn't mean any harm."

"I didn't," she said softly, her gaze pleading with Alistair for understanding.

"Then why?" Alistair demanded. He quivered with rage as Duncan moved behind him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him back against Duncan's chest. It had the effect of uncurling Alistair from his hunched, defensive posture and revealing his body to Elissa's gaze. With a deep, sharp pang of desire, she realized that he still wore his seed drying on his belly. Duncan's expression gave away nothing, but Elissa suspected the display was not accidental.

"You were so beautiful," she said wonderingly. "I couldn't bring myself to interrupt."

"But you heard what I said. About what I feel. About you."

"Alistair," she couldn't resist laughing softly, "I knew all that long before now. You haven't been terribly circumspect in your pursuit of me."

Alistair looked at her in amazement, then laughed as well, almost against his will. "I suppose I haven't," he answered, closing his eyes in embarrassment and sighed, "Oh, _Maker_." Some of the tension had left his body, however, and when he opened them again, the hurt, resentful look was gone from them. "But what you've seen here..."

"Changes nothing," she assured him.

"We could pretend this never happened," Duncan murmured, placing a kiss atop Alistair's head. Alistair turned and looked at him in alarm, clearly afraid Duncan was going to recommend disregarding what had passed between them. Duncan shook his head and stroked Alistair's face. "Or, we could consider this an opportunity. There are no secrets here, now. Elissa knows what you feel for her, and what you and I feel for each other. Clearly, she does not object to it, nor was she unaffected by what she witnessed. And I..." he shrugged. "I have not been entirely immune to the appeal of her considerable charms. There are endless possibilities here for any number of...harmonious arrangements."

Before Elissa's eyes, Alistair's body reacted a split second before his brain caught on to the implication in Duncan's words. He stared at Duncan with astonishment writ clearly on his face. "Are you actually proposing--?"

"Would you rather I ask you to choose between us?" Duncan asked. "I'm too old and have seen too much to be a blind romantic. I am nothing if not pragmatic. Would not the day come when you resented such a choice, whichever decision you made? I want you to be happy, Alistair. And if that means having to divide my attentions between you and a beautiful young woman, well," he shrugged with an exaggerated sigh of reluctance and a twinkle in his eye that could almost have been called flirtatious, "that's simply the price I'm willing to pay."

Stunned, Elissa comprehended that this, too, was a facet of Alistair's dream, a way to cherish his adoration for Duncan while having her as well, without any conflicts of guilt or betrayal or remorse. And she was moved to understand at last the depths to which he craved love and acceptance.

She would have to end this, she knew. But there was still something cautious and mistrustful in the coiled tension of Alistair's body. Even if she convinced him to abandon the illusion, he'd be humiliated once they escaped the demon, Sloth. Whatever hope she had of extracting him without undue awkwardness afterward lay in playing along for a while longer.

Which, she mused with a wry twitch of her lips, would certainly be no great chore. It may be a demon there wearing Duncan's face and form, but she'd known the feel of those false hands on her body and they felt real enough that she could pretend, at least for a while.

"The both of you?" she pondered, making a great show of mulling it over, then looked up through her lashes with a coy smile. "I _suppose_ that's a hardship I could endure..."

Alistair beamed as Duncan nodded approvingly and gave him a small shove, nudging him to his feet. Alistair approached, only now seeming to realize that he was nude before her. He blushed becomingly, and she smiled at him, shaking her head in affectionate amusement.

By the time he'd reached her, however, his blush was replaced by an eager, hungry look that made something _thud_ deep inside her. If Duncan's aim had been to make Alistair a more confident lover, he'd succeeded admirably. Whatever Alistair may have been lacking in experience he made up for in cocky assurance. He sailed right in and kissed her boldly, thoroughly. Elissa sighed and sank into the kiss, letting herself be carried away by it.

When Alistair drew back, he stared at her in wonder.

"Maker's breath, you're beautiful," he murmured. "I am a lucky man."

He pulled her close for another kiss, pressing his body against hers, and only then did Elissa realize she was no longer in her leathers, but rather a simple gown. Not a noblewoman's fashion, but neither was it a rough peasant garb either. It was Alistair's dream, she reminded herself, puzzled by the fact that when he imagined her, he didn't envision her in her armor and weapons as her other companions had.

His tongue nudged at her lips, parting them, and Elissa moaned softly. Duncan had taught him very well indeed, she thought, and realized she could smell Duncan everywhere upon Alistair's skin, and underneath it all, the unfamiliar but welcome scent of Alistair himself. Hungrily she ran her hands over his skin, familiarizing herself with the curves and ridges and planes of him. She pulled her mouth from his and began to kiss and nibble at his neck, breathing him in. Then Alistair tensed the tiniest bit and Elissa felt another pair of arms surround her from behind.

"May I?" Duncan asked softly, and Alistair nodded eagerly, observing as Elissa turned her head to receive Duncan's kiss. It was familiar and yet...entirely new. This tenderness was something she'd only seen hinted at in her own dream of Duncan, and Elissa realized she was desperate to know what it was like to make love with him. She regretted once more that the true Duncan was gone. All she could have was a pretense. She needed to focus on Alistair; he was what was real here. He was the man she could truly have.

As Duncan's lips slid across hers, his tongue seeking the inner recesses of her mouth, Alistair's kisses brushed her cheek, her hair, her chin, the curve of her neck. Being pressed between the two men should have been confining, but instead it simply felt safe and welcome and good. It felt like a new homecoming. Seeing her father and Highever again in her dream had been familiar and comforting, but it had been a ghost of the past. Even knowing this Duncan was an illusion, being here with Alistair, at least, felt like a future.

When Alistair's hands came around her to stroke Duncan's bare skin, it was Elissa who hummed in pleasure.

Breaking their kiss, Duncan stepped back and she felt his hands working the laces of her gown, parting it and pushing it off her shoulders. She withdrew her arms from the sleeves eagerly and wrapped them around Alistair's shoulders, drawing him back in for another kiss as she pressed her bare skin against his, savoring the feel of him. Duncan's experienced fingers made short work of her breastband and it fell to the ground between her body and Alistair's. She shifted to rub her breasts against Alistair's chest, earning a low, pleased rumble from him, and one of Duncan's hard hands cupped her breast from behind.

Feeling Duncan's fingers brush his chest, Alistair looked down. He drew in a sharp breath as he viewed those dark fingers caressing and kneading Elissa's pale, soft flesh. His tongue darted out as he licked his lips, staring as though mesmerized by the sight.

"Touch her, Alistair," Duncan urged, stroking his fingertips lightly across Elissa's nipple, making it pucker to a hard peak. "Like this."

Elissa gave pleased sigh, her head falling back against Duncan's shoulder. Duncan kissed her temple and looked down, watching as Alistair's hand came up to cup her other breast, molding the softness of it with his palm. His thumb brushed across her nipple and Elissa gasped, feeling how achingly tight it became, responding to his touch. Every nerve in her body thrummed with the desire, anxious for _more_. She could feel Duncan hard against her buttocks and the memories of him within her, thrusting savagely, or gently easing his way into Alistair, were so vivid that everything within her clenched in a spasm of longing.

"Taste her," Duncan coaxed, lightly pinching the nipple he still toyed with. Despite the heat rushing over her skin, Elissa shivered, resting back against him a little more fully, letting him support her so that she could lean back and give Alistair freer access to her breasts. Obligingly, Alistair bent and took her nipple into his mouth.

Elissa gasped with pleasure as his warm, soft mouth surrounded her. The stubble on his chin scraped the skin of her breast as he sucked, drawing on her nipple, stroking it with his tongue. In this, too, he learned fast, instinctively picking up on the unintentional cues she gave when he found the right pressure to use, the right time to change from sucking to stroking to nibbling. When Alistair looked up at her, his eyes were awed.

Duncan's hand on her other breast shifted, lifting her soft flesh, prompting Alistair to turn his attention to it. Elissa looked down, shivered. The sight of Duncan's dark hand on her pale flesh, holding it up for Alistair's mouth like an offering, was unspeakably erotic. When she squirmed, she could feel how wet she had become. Desire was a throbbing, cramping ache deep within the pit of her belly.

Duncan's other arm snaked around her waist and his hand slid softly down her stomach, where her skin twitched at the light touch. He pushed her gown down from where it had hung on her hips and it whispered down her legs to pool at her feet. He shoved his fingers insistently down the front of her smallclothes and her knees turned to jelly as he unerringly found the center of her pleasure and began to stroke. Alistair leaned back to watch what Duncan's fingers were doing. His amber eyes darkened and his breath quickened. On his own initiative, he slipped her smallclothes down her hips and knelt to slide them down her legs so that he might better see how Duncan pleasured her.

A particularly firm circuit of Duncan's fingers drew a desperate moan from Elissa's throat, her head thrashing against his shoulder. "Give me your hand, Alistair," Duncan said and when Alistair complied, Duncan guided his fingers to that sensitive nub. "Right here."

Elissa gave an soft, impassioned cry as Alistair's fingers began to stroke, Duncan guiding him at first and then releasing his hand to find his own way. And find it he did, eliciting one long moan after another as she wriggled and shifted her hips. Her movements rubbed her repeatedly against Duncan behind her and Alistair before her, and she could feel that both of them were hard and ready. She wanted to touch them, taste them, but Alistair's hand upon her felt too good, too right. She didn't want to move away.

Alistair rose, the motion of his fingers never faltering. He pressed close, his open, eager mouth finding hers again, his tongue pushing inside and stroking. He broke the kiss and pressed even closer, until she was crushed between his form and Duncan's as he leaned toward Duncan for another kiss. She felt their mutual sighs and her hips bucked between them as she watched the passionate battle of their tongues, the clash of their lips.

Her knees tried to buckle again, and this time she let them, sliding down and moving out from between them. When she had won some room to maneuver, she reached out and took their straining erections in her hands, her fingers gliding gently along the silky-soft skin covering that twitching, yearning hardness. She looked up to find they each had their heads thrown back, gasping in unison. They were opposites mirroring one another, she thought. One youthful and one mature, one fair and one dark, one smooth and one rugged, one naive and eager, the other devastatingly experienced and methodical.

She leaned forward to nuzzle Alistair's groin, her lips seeking the tip of his erection, but to her surprise he hastily pulled back. "I'm still new to this, and I'm not sure how much more I can take," he admitted. "I want this to last."

"Then what _would_ you like?" she asked, kneeling at his feet, smiling up at him looking up at him. He looked so sweet and unsure. This may all be an illusion, she thought, resolved, but she was going to make it good for him and lay a joyful foundation for what would come once they left the Fade.

"I liked what Duncan was doing, just now. Showing me what to do. I want to learn more," he said in a breathless rush. "I want to learn how to please you, how to please Duncan." He turned a teasing gaze to Duncan and shrugged gamely. "You offered to teach me, after all."

"So I did," Duncan chuckled, sinking to his knees before Elissa. He moved with predatory grace, swooping in to capture her mouth and consume it. Despite her resolve to keep her focus on Alistair, she was powerless to resist that skilled mouth on hers, that tongue demanding entrance and appealing to everything in her that even now yearned for surrender. Regretfully, she mused that it was unlikely Alistair would ever be able to fulfill that role for her, provide her with that sense of mastery to which she could yield herself. But there were other pleasures to be had, and she would relish them with him. And then again, if his imagination allowed for dreams of sharing her with Duncan, then perhaps the possibility of other arrangements was not out of the question.

Duncan crawled over her until she was forced to recline, to sink down to the impossibly soft grass beneath her. And there he kissed her until she could barely remember her own name, much less her purpose or her determination not to forget that he was an illusion. His tongue teased her lips, dipped inside and retreated, stroked gently here, firmly there. He nibbled and sipped and sucked at her lips, brushing his hands down the side-swells of her breasts. He kissed her until the restless heat spreading through her became unendurable, until she writhed sinuously, seeking greater contact, seeking _friction_ where she needed it so desperately. Her knee came up between his leg as she embraced his thigh between her own, riding it with wanton thrusts. Her hands traced the contours of his back, fingers gliding, kneading, scratching and she mewled desperately into his mouth.

She wrenched her mouth away with a gasp when he rocked against her, his erection grinding against her pelvis. Turning her head to the side, she discovered Alistair on the ground beside her, watching raptly. "Your mouth!" he whispered, touching her bruised and swollen lips with gentle fingertips. Her tongue darted out to lick his fingertips and Alistair shivered and bent over to kiss her as Duncan pulled away.

She intent was she upon exploring Alistair's mouth that she was surprised when she felt Duncan's mouth gliding down her belly to kiss the edge of the patch of curls there. She gasped, arching away from Alistair's mouth, and reflexively her knees came up and parted, opening her legs in anticipation. Alistair's gasp echoed hers as he turned his head to see what Duncan was doing.

She bucked when that hard, warm mouth covered her (_good, oh Maker, so good!_) his tongue stroking firmly over the engorged bundle of nerves hidden between her folds. She writhed and arched when he pulled softly on it with his lips, sucking gently. Her hands sought his head, clenched in his hair as she pushed her pelvis up, demanding more. For a moment, Alistair was forgotten and all she could feel was Duncan's mouth. She cried out when he pushed he tongue deeply into her and then pulled back to flick it over her bud again. When Duncan paused in his ministrations to kiss the inside of her thigh and let her catch her breath, Elissa opened her eyes to peer at Alistair, and found him staring at her face as though beholding a miracle. Then he turned his head to watch Duncan again, as his mouth began another assault on her sensitive flesh.

Duncan's fingers began to rub between her slick folds, teasing at her opening until she snarled in frustration. When he slid his fingertip carefully inside, it was tight, so very tight. She wanted more, tried to push upward and impale herself upon it, but Duncan pulled back. He lifted his head to give her a quizzical look, then he smiled and the pressure of his tongue drove thoughts of questioning him out of her head. His fingers returned, and again he refused to fill her with them. She groaned and thrust with her hips, seeking more but he merely dipped in slightly and then quickly retreated. She thrashed and whimpered as his tongue drove her nearly to the peak and held her there, never giving her quite enough to let her plummet over.

She opened her eyes again when she felt Duncan's hand withdraw. He reached out and ran his wet fingers along Alistair's lips, and Alistair groaned, opening his mouth to take those fingers inside, licking her essence off Duncan's skin. With a hungry groan, Alistair launched himself at Duncan and kissed him roughly, urgently. Unmindful of the fact that they came together in a clash over her panting and wriggling body, he drank that nectar from Duncan's lips.

The sight of them grappling with each other, sharing the taste of her, drew a desperate oath from Elissa's lips. Alistair's chest was heaving when the two men broke apart, and something frantic and starving darkened his eyes when he turned his gaze back to her. His erection jutted forth as though demanding acknowledgment. Unwilling to wait any longer, Elissa pushed herself up, scrambling out from beneath Duncan, and pressed on Alistair's shoulders, guiding him back to the ground. She straddled his hips, taking his erection between in her hand and stroked it slowly, firmly, sliding the loose skin back and forth until a drop of fluid appeared at the tip. She rose up and slid the head along her wet folds, positioning him carefully. With a sigh of anticipation, she began to sink down.

"Oh, Maker!" he moaned, and Elissa squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to relax as the pressure of him sliding slowly into her made her aware of the fact that she was unexpectedly tight despite the ready urgency of her desire. She'd not felt this sort of stretching since that night with one of her father's squires when she'd been sixteen and--

\--Alarmed, she began to push away but before she could lift herself off him, Alistair gave an eager thrust and suddenly she felt a deep, burning pain that absolutely should not have been there. With a strangled cry she went rigid, her hands balled into tight fists, tears prickling her eyelids as she clenched her eyes shut and waited for the ache to pass and tried to comprehend how this could have happened.

"What is it?" Alistair panted, making an effort to rein in his pleasure as he noted her reaction with concern. She shook her head, as much to deny the possibility of what had occurred as to reassure him. Then she felt hands on her, stroking her back and shoulders soothingly as another body drew close, embracing her from behind.

"It's all right, Alistair," Duncan's voice murmured near her ear, his arms surrounding her. "Just wait."

"_You knew!_" she hissed at him, hating him then. The ache was beginning to recede as she stretched around Alistair. Her body shook as she opened her eyes to glare at him from between tear-spiked lashes. She expected to see a malicious, gloating look that would remind her that it was a demon inhabiting Duncan's form, or perhaps even the cool, detached expression Duncan's face had worn when he'd whipped her in her own dream. But instead, he gazed down at Alistair with a solemn, loving expression. And then she understood.

It was Alistair's dream. Alistair, who got shy and uncomfortable when she flirted too aggressively with him.

Of course.

In his dream, she was as virginal as he himself was. And the kind, gentlemanly Duncan he cherished in his dreams naturally would refrain from doing anything that might have despoiled her so that Alistair could share that experience of a first union with her.

Drawing a deep, slow breath, she forced herself to relax, and with the lessening of her tension, the lingering hurt began to ease. Duncan pressed a kiss to her shoulder, his hands sliding up and down her arms in soft, soothing strokes, and she found it impossible to remain angry now that she understood. She looked down at Alistair and gave him a trembling smile, then leaned far over to kiss him, reassuring him without words.

Alistair groaned into her mouth, giving an involuntary nudge with his hips, and Elissa felt how much easier he moved within her now, felt that pleasant pressure begin to override the discomfort. She lingered at the kiss, her tongue delving into Alistair's mouth, giving herself time to adjust. Duncan stroked and kneaded her back, scratched her skin lightly with his blunt fingernails. Finally she felt the last traces of tension ease and rose up again, lifting herself nearly off Alistair before sliding gingerly back down upon him once more. They both moaned together.

Pleasure overtook any lingering memory of pain, and she'd forgotten what it felt like to feel this full for the first time. There was something sublime even about that small hint of discomfort that remained, and the look on Alistair's face... Carefully, she began to move, shifting with her hips to gain a better angle, more pressure in the right spot. Alistair's hands found her hips, helped her lift herself up, and--oh, that! That was good.

"Yes, oh, yes...Alistair. Right there," she breathed when Alistair began to thrust upward again, picking up her rhythm. He lost the cadence again when Duncan pressed close behind her once more, one arm encircling her ribs to take her breast into his hand, the other stroking down her abdomen to caress just above the point where Alistair's body joined hers.

"_Maker's breath!_" Alistair hissed. "Seeing you like that...both of you..."

Elissa felt a tremor in Alistair's hands as they rode her hips and decided they both needed to slow down and find a distraction if this was going to last much longer. She slid down upon him and settled there.

"I want to see you taste Duncan," she murmured, watching his reaction carefully. Alistair's eyes widened nervously for a moment, but then he nodded, licking his lips. Duncan trailed his fingers down her spine once more before me left her, crawling alongside Alistair's recumbent form. He dipped his head to kiss Alistair deeply, and Alistair's arms encircled him, drawing him closer, long, lean fingers splaying across Duncan's back and tangling in his hair. Alistair was gasping by the time they parted, and Elissa had to suppress the desire to begin moving and ride him to completion.

But they would only get this chance once, and then the dream would be gone. Alistair was right; they needed to make it last. She straddled him, very carefully not moving, and Alistair's shaking hand reached for Duncan's erection.

Duncan released a low, growling sigh as Alistair drew his hand along Duncan's length, cautiously at first, and then with more confidence, learning the feel of him, the way he responded to a stroke here or a squeeze there, the light brush of a thumb across his tip, the firm pumping of his encircling fingers up and down the shaft. As she watched, Alistair pushed back the hood of skin and studied the exposed tip, licking his lips again when he saw a drop of fluid emerge from the slit. Groaning, Duncan shifted, half-lounging on his side next to Alistair's head. Alistair turned his head, pushing himself up slightly with his arms and reached out with his tongue, catching that droplet.

"Yes," Duncan hissed, his hand stroking Alistair's hair and face tenderly. Alistair opened his mouth and Duncan guided himself within, giving a low moan when Alistair's lips closed around him. Elissa felt the muscles with which she surrounded Alistair give a small twitch as Alistair moved his head, taking Duncan in deeper. The sight was unimaginably erotic, and coupled with Duncan's deep moan it was nearly enough to tip her over the brink. Had she touched herself at that moment, or moved even slightly, she knew she would have toppled over that shining edge and taken Alistair with her. She had to close her eyes to the sight for a long moment.

Alistair made a happy sound, as though the feel and taste of Duncan within his mouth was very agreeable indeed, and in response, Duncan gave a push of his hips, thrusting gently into Alistair's mouth. Alistair's cheeks hollowed as he pulled back and sucked, moving from caution to enthusiasm without hesitation, his shyness and inexperience all but forgotten. Duncan's hand caressed the corded, stretched curve of Alistair's neck, the hard edge of his jaw, the high line of his cheekbone. And all the while, he murmured soft words of encouragement, urging Alistair on with praise.

Alistair pulled back, running his tongue up the length of Duncan's shaft, swirling it around the head as he remembered Duncan doing to him earlier. He looked up and a slow, dangerously sexy smile crossed his face when he saw Duncan's head was thrown back, his eyes clenched shut, his mouth open and gasping with pleasure. Then he lowered his head, his eyes rolling upward to gauge Duncan's reaction as he tongued the sac beneath. Duncan grunted Alistair's name, giving a small, uncontrolled bump with his hips, grinding his erection against Alistair's face. "Yes..." he hissed. "Again."

Alistair took the orbs in his hand, rolling them gently with his fingers, stroking them with long, slow swipes of his tongue. Then he traced his tongue up the ridge of the tendon along the back of Duncan's shaft and engulfed him in one fast, confident lunge. Duncan moaned again, but it was Elissa's soft cry that gained their attention as the sudden shift in Alistair's body caused his pelvis to writhe beneath her, pushing him deeper into her, reminding her of the pleasure she was trying to hold at bay. She'd been watching them, transfixed by their passionate display, her eyes gleaming and her breath coming in shallow pants. Part of her hated that she'd interrupted them, but another part, the part whose need was too urgent to ignore any longer, thrilled when they noticed her again.

She gave a small grind of her hips and suddenly she had Alistair's undivided attention once more. The reprieve had brought her them back from the perilous precipice, and now she felt impatient to continue. Alistair fell back to lie still beneath her once more, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Duncan pulled away, bending to kiss Alistair once more. Bracing her hands on Alistair's chest, Elissa leaned forward as well, her face a breath away from theirs, until the kiss became three-sided, her lips and tongue moving from Duncan's to Alistair's, then back again, before the two men turned back to one another. Alistair's hands stroked down her ribs and back and came to rest on her backside, pulling her closer. The pressure of the motion brought a long, slow, desperate sound from their throats and they drew away from Duncan, sinking into one another, their open mouths meshing and melding.

Elissa reared up and began to move. Closing her eyes and letting sensation overtake her, she _rode_. She rode Alistair until he caught her rhythm and began meeting her with sharp, jerking thrusts, pushing into her deeply, so very deeply, gliding easily, filling her completely. Her face was flushed, her skin gleaming with a sheen of perspiration when she opened her eyes again to find Duncan staring with a dark, intense look that she knew presaged some new extreme of pleasure.

Her motions slowed as his hands found her breasts, toying with her nipples, pinching lightly. He made no effort to inflict pain as he had in her own dream; no, this was entirely about pleasure. She realized, however, that the potential was still there. The Duncan she'd known in her dream and the Duncan Alistair dreamed of were one in the same, capable of both giving pleasure with tender generosity and commanding it with unrelenting dominance. He could bestow great love and great cruelty in equal measures, depending on his mood. The realization made the heavy, warm tension pulsing in her belly swell until she stiffened, the waves of a gentle climax flowing through her.

When she opened her eyes again, she sank down and kissed them each again, snuggling for a moment in Alistair's arms and allowing herself to feel not just pleasure, but love.

"Stay there," Duncan said, kissing her cheek and pressing on her back between her shoulder blades until she lay flush against Alistair's chest. The hint of command in his voice made Elissa shiver in Alistair's arms, which in turn made a low moan rumble through Alistair. Duncan pushed himself up off the ground and away from them and presently moved in behind Elissa, bending over her and sliding the length of his body along hers, until she was sandwiched between them, embraced from both sides. Alistair's eyes glowed as he looked up at both of them and he breathed a happy sigh.

Duncan rocked against her again, and the motion caused her to grind into Alistair, and it felt good to be moving on him again, even if ever so slightly. Warm, mounting pleasure began to make Elissa restless again. She wanted more. She wanted to let go and ride Alistair until he was breathless and spent beneath her. Then Duncan's erection pressed against her backside, sliding along the cleft there with each rocking motion, and she went very still, a ripple of pleasure shuddering through her at the memory of him inside her. Another, more intense spasm followed as she began to comprehend what Duncan intended. A mere second later, she felt the cool drizzle of oil between her buttocks, and her muscles seized around Alistair.

"Ugh!" Alistair's loud, startled exhalation and the involuntary push of his hips almost spelled the end of her patience, but for Duncan's hand between her shoulders again, forcing her down, his voice commanding them to both stillness. Alistair's eyes widened as he saw Duncan lay aside the vial of oil. He looked almost alarmed, shocked enough to forget the urgency of his own need.

"Maker's blood, you're going to--" his mouth shut with a snap as Duncan's finger slid slowly into Elissa's rear passage and her muscles tightened around him again.

She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against Alistair's chest as she resisted the urge to let tension creep into her body. She breathed deeply, remembering the importance of relaxation from her experience in her own dream, from watching Duncan take Alistair earlier. There was a frisson of fear, as well, fear that it would be too much to have them both in her at once, and yet she was desperate to feel them moving in her together.

Duncan was as conscientious and thorough in his preparation of her as he had been with Alistair, taking his time as Elissa lay carefully motionless, adapting as he gradually added more fingers, moved in and out, stretching her. As the sensation became more intense, she began to shift and writhe until Alistair squirmed beneath her, begging for control, for license to move, for release, for _sweetAndrastedothatagain_...

And then Duncan's weight was at her back again, pressing her down lightly, covering her and Alistair with his body. His oiled shaft slid along her crevice, nudging at her entrance. He stroked her arms, much as he had earlier, and pressed a soft kiss to her back as he patiently pushed forward.

"Oh, dear Maker," she breathed, quaking between them, sweat beading her skin as she buried her face in Alistair's chest and muttered soft pleas for...mercy? For more?? She didn't know what she wanted. It was too much, more than she'd ever believed possible, and it was sublime and it was terrible and it was so incredibly and wonderfully intense she wasn't sure if she could bear it but she was absolutely certain she couldn't bear to stop and Maker she couldn't take any more but she wanted it to go on and on and on...

Alistair's breathing grew harsh and ragged and his own voice soon joined hers once he began to feel Duncan pressing against him from within her and he pushed up, harder into her, seeking more. Slowly Duncan pulled back and thrust forward again, and her strangled moan was quickly echoed by Alistair's. As Duncan straightened, removing some of his weight from her, Alistair passed beyond the possibility of restraint and began to thrust, his fingers digging into her hips as he pulled her down to him. Duncan began to set his own pace, his slow, deep plunges gaining speed and force. Soon Elissa was rocking helplessly between them, forced harder onto one by every thrust of the other.

Duncan's hands came up to cup her breasts, and his fingers pulled firmly at her nipples, wrenching a cry from her throat that quickly evolved into an undulating wail as Alistair, seeing what Duncan was doing to her breasts, lost himself and tumbled over the edge. His hips bucked wildly, driving in her with hard, slamming strokes, and Elissa began to mewl and beg, so very close to that peak. Her skin was flushed and her voice breathless as she sobbed and begged for release and Maker's blood she knew when it finally hit her that she was going to come apart!

Duncan growled something near her ear, but she was beyond any ability to comprehend. Alistair, lying dazed beneath her, responded to the command, lifting his hand and pressing his fingertips against that spot hidden within her curls. One touch, that was all, and then she shattered, screaming and sobbing and thrashing her head madly back and forth as an inferno of light erupted behind her eyes and cataclysmic waves of pleasure wracked her body. Alistair began to buck again, thrusting his softening length hard into her as her muscles clenched and seized and milked him, sending ripples of aftershocks through him on the heels of his own climax.

Then Alistair slid from her body as Duncan pushed her forward, forcing her farther over onto Alistair's form and gave over the last vestiges of his own control. Alistair's arms enveloped her, as Duncan gripped her hips and rode her, driving into her over and over, each time drawing another long, low moan from her, until finally he went rigid, shuddering with a low groan. She felt him slump behind her, but she was too stunned to do anything but lie there atop Alistair and wait for the roaring rush of her pulse in her ears to fade.

Alistair pressed fervent, adoring kisses to her damp brow, and slowly she came back to herself, meeting his lips tenderly. With sanity restored, she began to recall her purpose, and knew the time had come to end this.

"Alistair," she whispered close to his ear where she hopefully wouldn't be overheard. "We have to go."

"We can't," he shook his head, his eyes pleading with her.

"This is all a dream, an illusion. We have to find our way out."

"I know," he answered, his eyes damp. "I've known since the moment Duncan kissed me. But this...him, you...it's everything I've ever wanted. Please. Surely another hour won't make that much of a difference..."

Looking into his face, she was unable to deny him. "Just a while longer, then," she whispered, kissing him deeply.

 

*****

 

Looking down at the bodies at his feet, Sloth made a satisfied sound, almost a laugh, except laughing required too much effort.

He would have to deal with the companions the female Warden had released from their illusions, but that would be simple enough. Without the strength of the Wardens, they couldn't possibly hope to defeat him.

As for the Wardens...

The male was still lost somewhere in his insipid fantasy about a long-lost sister and family. And the female, well...

...his work was much easier with desire demons at his command. By the time she recognized the carefully constructed second dream they had built for her for what it was, it would be far too late. Forcing those he trapped in his realm to remain against their will was possible, but it was so much work. Much easier, instead, to make them want to never leave.

The lifeless husks at his feet were nearly drained of all energy. Just a short while more, and there would be nothing for them to return to.

Pleased, Sloth shuffled off in search of more food.


End file.
